He looked no longer at his wife. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws.
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