It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. Jonathan nodded assent. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel.
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