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122 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
beside her. Another hailstorm of kisses, the goddess
stooped towards me, ready to surrender.
Gradually I drew her closer to me, holding her captive
with my lips, so as not to give her time to break the spell
my eyes had cast over her, and free herself. We sat on
the " grass " like lovers, yielding to our passion like fully
dressed angels, and rose up content, happy, without
remorse, like angels who have not fallen.
Love is inventive ! We had sinned without sinning,
yielded without surrendering. How precious is the love
of a woman of experience ! She is merciful to the young-
apprentice ; she finds her pleasure in giving, not in
receiving. . . .
Suddenly she recovered her senses, remembered the
claims of reality and prepared to go.
" Until to-morrow, then !
"
" Until to-morrow I
"
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