‘I can argue with him very well indeed. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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