His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. My wife—killed me. I cannot go on. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. “Please stop by.
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