As she raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. They had changed identities absolutely. And the hunter home from the hill. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. Someone ought to be with him until the doctor arrives. Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. She disengaged her hands and stood up. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. ‘I, on the other hand, want to help you to marry this Englishman. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. She kept opening her eyes and looking at it. I want to love him. He loved you. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes.
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