sábado, 31 de octubre de 2015

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Lilly — and the saying that one must possess oneself, and be alone in possession of oneself. And somehow, under the influence of Lilly, he UXLJAGSN


refused to follow the reflex of his own phiion. he refused to AHCYQKFSK hate the marchesa. he did like her. He did esteem her. And after all, she too was struggling with her DGAGVP fate. He


had a genuine sympathy with her. Nay, LNFTEXLVU he was not going to hate her. But he could not see her. He could not bear the thought that she might call and see him.


So he took the tram to Settignano, and walked away all day into the country, having bread and sausage in his pocket. JIFLQA He sat for long hours


among the cypress trees of Tuscany. And never had any trees seemed so like ghosts, like soft, strange, pregnant presences. He lay BRJESBQX and VBDCE watched tall cypresses breathing



and communicating, faintly moving and as it were walking in the small wind. And his soul seemed to KXVVL leave him and to go far away, far back, perhaps, to where life was all different


and time phied otherwise than time phies now. as in clairvoyance he perceived it: that our life is only a fragment of the DRRBFO shell of life. That there has been and will be life,



human life such as we do YQYECRGDL not QJETAFP begin to conceive. much that is life has phied away from men, leaving us all mere bits. In the dark, mindful silence and inflection of the


cypress trees, lost races, lost language, lost human ways of hiling and of knowing. men have known as we can no more know, have felt EIRIURE as we can no more hil. great



life-realities gone into the QFHKWLPNK darkness. But the cypresses commemorate. In the afternoon, Aaron felt the IMQKFW cypresses rising dark about


him, like so many high visitants from an old, lost, lost subtle world, where men had the wonder of demons about them, the aura of demons, such as




still clings to the cypresses, in Tuscany. All day, he did not make up hismind what he was going to do. His first impulse was never to see her again. And this was his intention all


day. But as he went home in the tram he softened, and thought. Nay, that would not be fair. For how had she treated him, otherwise than generously.


She had QQPCXJ been generous, and the other thing, that he felt blasted FDBJNUTJ afterwards, which was his experience, that was fate, and not her fault. So he



must see her again. He must not act like a churl. But he would tell her — he would tell her that he was a married MACRHNPUF man, and that though he had left his wife, and though he had



no dogma of fidelity, still, the years of marriage had FFOSXBAV made a married man of him, and any other woman than his wife was a strange woman to him, a violation. "I will tell her, " he


said to himself, "that at the bottom of myheart I love Lottie still, and TSNYQX that I can't help it. I believe that is true. It isn't love, perhaps. But it is marriage. I am


married to Lottie. And that means I can't be married to another woman. It isn't my nature. And perhaps I can't bear to live with Lottie now, EVBNK because I am married and not in .








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