“Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours. " "Oh, I see. ” Part 6 In the afternoon she resumed her search for apartments. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. They struck her as cold and indifferent. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat.
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