All other things were without weight or consequence before the fact that this poor young man would have to depend upon her for his life. ‘They lived with him, one after the other, for all the world as his wife. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. "But don't ever let me see them again. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. Jesus! They just wouldn’t let up about you after you played the violin for them.
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