I'll eat them when we start. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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