I chose you for your strength, your cunning, your intelligence, your great beauty. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. Lucy’s solos were exquisite in their precision and expression.
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