And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. That window there…. I love you—with all my heart and soul. Bodies! Bodies! Horrible things! We are souls. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. You’re tired, of course.
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