Towards daytime she came and opened the door. I asked why the doors made a noise in the night; she told me that the child's lamp had gone out, and she had lit it again at our neighbor's. I was silent and believed it was so. But it struck me, sirs, that she had powdered her face,1 though her brother had died not thirty days before; even so, however, I made no remark on the fact, but left the house in silence.
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