Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. “He knows. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. She aimed directly at Rhea’s head. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria.
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