--I am waiting for your answer, said MacCann briefly. Why was it that when he thought of Cranly he could never raise before his mind the entire image of his body but only the image of the head and face? Even now against the grey curtain of the morning he saw it before him like the phantom of a dream, the face of a severed head or death-mask, crowned on the brows by its stiff black upright hair as by an iron crown. From one of them we derive our very language and from many of them much of the genius of our institutions. But now that you've guessed--" Mrs.
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