He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. He looked at her with a certain curiosity. There will be no more children in this house, not ever! And if anyone ever tries bringing children into our house again, I shall kill the lot of them. You are not ‘Alcide. '" "What is that?" she asked. E. It rather astonished him. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. She was as fair as the lily of the lotus. She was conscious the whole conversation of Michelle, trying to divine what the girl was planning to do. “We’ll have to watch a movie down here. Like a trollop in heat.
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