Part 7 For a time the biological laboratory was full of healing virtue. I cannot work, I cannot teach. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. And, when I have seen him pining away before my eyes, getting thinner and thinner every day, I have sometimes thought my prayers were heard. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk.
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