Though all thestreets of Venice are melancholy, these streets had a melancholy that wasquite distinct - as if Jewish sadness and Gentile sadness were made upaccording to different recipes. It was very large and ornate; the sort ofmirror, in fact, that is made on the island of Murano in the Venetian Lagoon. Timeafter time the onlookers thought he was about to fall and break his worthlessneck, but he never did. Good God! cried Strange.
Strange sighed. Strange looked rather wistfully at the remains of the dinner which theservants were clearing away. Despite the hour (it was notmuch after half past five) the town was already up. He made several attempts,but these had very little effect except that once he made all seventeen corpsessuddenly shoot up until
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