He thrust out a rhetorical hand. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows. "You forgot your lunch," she said. 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. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. You are not unlike Pandora.
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