The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. "She is. It fits your style. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Imbecile. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. .
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