“It is nothing of any importance. ” He made a little noise in his throat as if something had cried out within him, and for a time they were both too full for speech. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. I tell you, that girl would jump into the sea, rather.
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