If my Mom found out, she’d kill me. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. "Come and see the lagoon in the moonlight. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. Even as a child she observed how men were haunted 18 by the presence of her mother. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me. It’s artificially chance. Do you hear me? Do you hear what I am saying?. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense.
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