The Man Who Laughs


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Were you born with that frightful laugh on your face? No! No doubt it is  
a penal brand. I do hope you have committed some crime. Come to my  
arms."  
She sank on the couch, and made him sit beside her. They found  
themselves close together unconsciously. What she said passed over  
Gwynplaine like a mighty storm. He hardly understood the meaning of her  
whirlwind of words. Her eyes were full of admiration. She spoke  
tumultuously, frantically, with a voice broken and tender. Her words  
were music, but their music was to Gwynplaine as a hurricane. Again she  
fixed her gaze upon him and continued,--  
"I feel degraded in your presence, and oh, what happiness that is! How  
insipid it is to be a grandee! I am noble; what can be more tiresome?  
Disgrace is a comfort. I am so satiated with respect that I long for  
contempt. We are all a little erratic, from Venus, Cleopatra, Mesdames  
de Chevreuse and de Longueville, down to myself. I will make a display  
of you, I declare. Here's a love affair which will be a blow to my  
family, the Stuarts. Ah! I breathe again. I have discovered a secret. I  
am clear of royalty. To be free from its trammels is indeed deliverance.  
To break down, defy, make and destroy at will, that is true enjoyment.  
Listen, I love you."  
She paused; then with a frightful smile went on, "I love you, not only  
because you are deformed, but because you are low. I love monsters, and  
I love mountebanks. A lover despised, mocked, grotesque, hideous,  
exposed to laughter on that pillory called a theatre, has for me an  
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