She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. “Even if he lives here you may go all your life and never come face to face with him again. It was really most vivid, most vivid! You seemed to be slipping and just going to tumble and holding on. “If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now. He was also aware that all his arguments would shatter themselves against her resolutions.
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