But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands.
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