“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator. " A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a singular way. Of a certainty, she also was imbecile. Very soon she would be able to forget it. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. She had found two copies of the magazine and carefully cut out both photos.
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