“No, he grabbed my hand. In Paris, in July, a raging mob had stormed the Bastille, provoking circumspect aristocrats to uproot themselves and take refuge abroad. Roof open —like a Noah’s Ark. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. The phone did not ring. She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her.
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