He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. ’ Melusine edged a little away from the portrait. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. Mon cher major, Melusine began. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. ” It took some days for this phase to pass, and it left some scars and something like a decision. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know.
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