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A sob was strangled in her throat. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. "I expect a very extraordinary person to supper, Rachel," he remarked. “Michelle, I cannot give you my blessing. He looked just as Julian had the night she had first met him outside the Joliet Laundromat. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. The quarry had passed out into the open sea. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink.
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