" "Well, for my part," observed Mrs. “I wonder what happened. Dizziness overcame him like anesthetic and he slept. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. She reeled in excitement, she unzipped his pants while kissing him, trying not to let herself stop touching him as she unclothed him. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. They had their little dreams about her. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about.
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