" Jonathan gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. How did you get into this house?’ He shrugged. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself.
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