For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. Still, that leaves over a million shrines short, not reckoning widows who re-marry.
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