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here?"
It struck me he looked [[strikeout]] very [[/strikeout]] ^[[particularly]] pale.
"I was watching."
"Watching?"
"Yes, watching ^[[over]] you".  He had a tragic expression
"Are you armed?" I [[strikeout]] said [[/strikeout]] ^[[asked]] in a ^[[ [[strikeout]] tragic [[/strikeout]] ^[[stage]] whisper.
He glanced over his shoulder ^[[nervously]], "Yes."

[[strikeout]] It was hard for me to make him see us ^[["we are]] were not living in a melodrama."  To be Spanish is to be live in a world of [[/strikeout]] ^I was ruthless then]] 
"To go somewhere and get a good square meal and forget about it.  This is no melodrama", [[strikeout]] I ruthlessly announced.
His Spanish eyes looked reproach. [[/strikeout]]
I don't know what his slow smile meant.  [[strikethrough]] as [[/strikethrough]] As I left him in the fog [[strikethrough]] I wished [[/strikethrough]] some one bumpted into me, the streets were so dark....
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