Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. ” “But you thought you could forget him. I am quite indiscriminate, I assure you. ‘Jacques?’ she called. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself.
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