She was bathed in turbid water that had already been used. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. The thing is done. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
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