He hoped that it wouldn't be
repeated. He couldn't answer for himself through many such attacks.
Yes, his first love, though just as imperative, had been more ecstatic;
the reaching for an ideal rather than the body of a woman.
His allegiance to Cytherea, though, was in part to the former, to
youth; now it seemed to him he had preserved that through all his life.
But the latter, at least in its devastating power, was new. Lee
recognized it as passion, but passion to a degree beyond all former
experience and comprehension. Why had it been quiescent so long to
overwhelm him now? Or what had he done to open himself to such an
invasion? A numbing poison couldn't have been very different. Then,
contrarily, he was exhilarated by the knowledge of the vitality of his
emotion; Lee reconsidered it with an amazement which resembled pride.
The penny kisses here--he was letting himself into the house--were like
the candies Fanny had in a crystal dish on the sideboard, flavors of
cinnamon and rose and sugary chocolate. They were hardly more than the
fumes of alcohol. But the party showed no signs of ending, the piano
continued to be played without a break; one sentimental song had been
repeated, without the omission of a line, a held note, ten times, Lee
was sure. Fanny paused breathlessly, with a hand on his arm:
"They are all having such a good time; it is absolutely successful.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241