” She shifted again. “So I see that you have become content with your hardscrabble existence, your week-to-week survival, your Martin Chen!” “Who?” “Your limp-wristed lover!” “Um. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all. As he passed the Six Bells, he noticed the steeds of the two horsemen at the door; and glancing into the house, perceived the younger of the two in the passage. ’ ‘Melusine,’ shrieked the nun. It was time to leave America.
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