One day, when I was in college, a dishonest-looking character approached me in the student union with a leather jacket he wanted to sell. It was a beauty: buttery smooth cowskin, with artfully sewed lines and long leather fringes  . I can't remember what the price was, but it was apparently too little for such a jacket. Even as I paid the money that day, I knew something wasn't right. Surely, a couple of days later, the jacket's real owner, a student about my age came to me as I was on my way to class. "That's my jacket," he said, "and I want it back." "No way," I answered. "I paid for it, and I have no idea if it's yours. It's mine." He didn't challenge me, and I left, but the uneasiness  I had about my new possession now _ A few days later, riding my bike across campus, I saw the real owner standing on the sidewalk. I rode over, took the jacket off, handed it to him said I was sorry, and rode off without another word. More than the weight of the jacket had been lifted from my shoulders. We're all human, which means that sometimes we do things we shouldn't do or say things we shouldn't say. Sometimes we realize too late that our actions have been hurtful to somebody else. When these hard times occur, the best response --- the only response, really --- is, "I'm sorry." Admitting a wrongdoing, as soon as possible and frankly, helps the other person begin to heal. But just as important, it cleans up our own soul and sets us free. That is a small price to pay for a clear conscience. The phrase "had a visible face" in the passage probably implies  "  _  ".
started to bother me badly might be clearly expressed began to give me away openly could be instantly melting away