He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. ’ Melusine shrugged. " "I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. She was no longer a confederate in that. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation.
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