"What are you doing?" my wife asked me, as she saw me lingering, contrary to my wont, in front of the mirror. "Nothing," I told her. "I am just having a look here, in my nose, in this nostril. It hurts me a little, when I take hold of it." My wife smiled. "I thought," she said, "that you were looking to see which side it is hangs down the lower." I whirled like a dog whose tail has been stepped on: "Which side hangs down the lower? My nose? Mine?"
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