Love lives on a higher plane. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. They could no longer stay in one place. Well, it had to happen somewhen. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. " The Wastrel advanced. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia.
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