He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. "I'll tote the odiousness outside. . In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin.
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