To make up his mind what to do with you. --Do you disbelieve then? --I neither believe in it nor disbelieve in it, Stephen answered. But the nightshade of his friend's listlessness seemed to be diffusing in the air around him a tenuous and deadly exhalation and be found himself glancing from one casual word to another on his right or left in stolid wonder that they had been so silently emptied of instantaneous sense until every mean shop legend bound his mind like the words of a spell and his soul shrivelled up sighing with age as he walked on in a lane among heaps of dead language. He who utters it is more conscious of the instant of emotion than of himself as feeling emotion.
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