This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 edition. Excerpt: ...Perroud's heavy-cornered lips, and the multiple mouth laughed a great, formidable, rising laugh. And now? Now the female was prepared. He could if he liked leave his sentences unfinished, jump from subject to subject, stamp the floor furiously, bark insults. The female was fastened to him, caught in his grasp ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 edition. Excerpt: ...Perroud's heavy-cornered lips, and the multiple mouth laughed a great, formidable, rising laugh. And now? Now the female was prepared. He could if he liked leave his sentences unfinished, jump from subject to subject, stamp the floor furiously, bark insults. The female was fastened to him, caught in his grasp whether by blows or caresses, it did not matter, eager only to fuse with him and have what she expected. So this was an audience? Then an audience was this famished flesh, which quivered so promptly at the approach of the male? And this then was the idea? Was it really so easy to convince? All that was needed, then, were certain gestures, a certain aplomb, some shouts, and certain catchwords? But what connection had all that with the hope for which they hungered? What connection with themselves? They were the words that one wanted to tell them: it sufficed to speak of themselves. "And so, comrades, this is what I have come to tell you. It belongs to you, you must get it for yourselves"--a pause, the supreme twitching of silence--' liberty.' "Hurrah, Perroud! Hurrah, Perroud!" Hands, eyes, the appeasement of relaxation, all flowed out into the warm atmosphere--the swoon of the satisfied female. "You now." The "You" indicated by Genty's pale eyebrows and colorless lips, catching Anne unawares, went through her bowels like the thrust of a dagger. She detached her body from her chair, rose, slowly mounted the three steps of the platform--one, two, three, as if she were selecting them--on the third was stunned by the fear that there was too much powder on her face, that her skirt was too short and perhaps too fancy. As in a dream, she saw Perroud's exhausted smile, the perspiration on his forehead--well, was it possible, had he been nervous?......
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