She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. ‘Come, cry a truce. “You will have to eat soon,” he said cryptically. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. Sebastian dared not approach her. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. ” An awkward moment of silence followed.
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