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Hopefully. ‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. Goopes said that we must distinguish between sincerity and irony, which was often indeed no more than sincerity at the sublimated level. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume.
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