Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. “Let me know the truth. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. She had become much healthier, and she did not recoil when he kissed her bare neck as it elicited good feelings from all of the regions of her body. I think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. He had to know the truth, Melusine.
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