"[...] "But it is natural. How conceive a life different from what it clearly appears to eyes that can see? Yes! perhaps a certain illusion is possible.... What a pity, doubtless, what a pity for me that I did not meet you earlier-years ago. I would have loved you, and then...." "What would have befallen your destiny, as a result?" "You would have deluded me about life's value, Madame," Hubert continued, with a poetic enthusiasm that bordered on persiflage. "I would have drunk, like an external absinthe, the fluid illusion ...
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"[...] "But it is natural. How conceive a life different from what it clearly appears to eyes that can see? Yes! perhaps a certain illusion is possible.... What a pity, doubtless, what a pity for me that I did not meet you earlier-years ago. I would have loved you, and then...." "What would have befallen your destiny, as a result?" "You would have deluded me about life's value, Madame," Hubert continued, with a poetic enthusiasm that bordered on persiflage. "I would have drunk, like an external absinthe, the fluid illusion of your sea-green eyes and would have chained myself to life by the golden chain of your blond hair." She veiled herself with indifference lightly embroidered with irony and, believing herself sheltered from a too inquisitive glance, ingenuously replied: "It is really but three years since I was twenty-seven. It is now the thirtieth[...]."
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Seller's Description:
Very Good. Book First English edition. Nicholas L. Brown 1922. Very good green cloth hardcover. Binding square and firm. Text clean. Previous owner's small bookplate to endpaper.
