Many things difficult to design prove easy to performance.

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ant scent ▓of her powde

sophers.Kant in his nightcap fee▓ling his w

ay upstairs.Jupiter Tonan▓s.There is somehow a heavy futility in this▓ array of great ones — among whom she ▓has permitted Pursewarden an appeara▓nce.Four of his novels are t▓o be seen though whether she has put them there▓ specially for the o

r hanging heavy in the b

ccasion (we are all dining ▓together) I can

not say.Justine surrounded▓ by her philosophers is like an i●nvalid surrounded by medicines — empty capsu●les, bottles and syringes. 癞Kiss her’ says Arnauti ‘and you are aw●are that her eyes do not close but open m●ore widely, with an increasing doubt and mad●ness.The mind is so awake th●at it makes any gift of the body partia●l

ed-c▓urtains.A dressing

— a panic which will respond to nothi▓ng l

ess than a curette.At night● you can hear her brain ticki▓ng like a cheap alarm-clock.’ ●On the far wall there is an idol ●the eyes of which are

-table with ▓its stoppe

lit from within by ele▓ctricity, and it is

to this graven me▓ntor that Justine acts her private role.Im●agine a torch thrust through the throat ▓of a skeleton to light up the v●ault of the skull from which t●he eyeless sockets ponder.Shadows thrown on th▓e arch of the cranium flap there

red cream and salves.Ove

in imprisonment●.When the electricity is o

ut of order ▓a stump of candle is soldered to the bracket: ▓Justine then, standing naked on tip-toes t●o push a lighted match into the eyeball of the G●od.Immediately the furrows of ▓the jaw spring into relief, the shaven fronta▓l bone, the straight rod of the nose.She has▓ never been tranquil unless t▓his visitant from distant mytholog

r the be●d the Universe

y is watchi●ng over her nightmares.Under it

he▓ a few small inexpensive toys, a ▓celluloid doll, a sailor, about which I have n●ever had the courage to question her.●It is to this idol that


her m▓ost marvellous dialogues are composed.It is pos●sible, she says, to talk in her sleep and▓ be overheard by the wise and sy▓mpathetic mask

of Ptolemy! She h

which has come to ▓represent what she calls her Noble Self 〃埅 adding sadly, with a smile ▓of misgiving, ‘It does exist yo▓u know.’ The pages

as ▓had it drawn

of Arnauti run through my ●mind as I watch her and talk to her.‘A fa●ce famished by the inward light of her terrors●.In the darkness long after

upon parchment an?/a>
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