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Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. Contrasted with the confused movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long, quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds.
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