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Nordau, Max Simon, 1849-1923

"How Women Love (Soul Analysis)"

Drawing a long
breath, she submitted, not shrinking back until his burning lips sought
hers. Their hearts beat audibly as they continued their walk, and long
pauses interrupted their faltering speech.
What did they say to each other? Why repeat it? One who has never had
such conversations will not understand them, and one who has
experienced them, only needs to be reminded of them. They are always
the same. Memories of childhood, rapture and extravagance, words of
enthusiastic love, words which create the slight tremor of the skin
like a cool breeze or the caress of toying fingers. So they walked a
long, long time in the dark park, without heeding the flight of time,
far from the world and unutterably happy.
"I am tired, Karl," Ada said at last, and leaned her head on his
shoulder.
They were near a low, grassy bank, a few paces from the central avenue,
and almost under the balcony of the castle, but completely concealed by
the dense shadow of the over-arching trees. Karl spread his shawl over
the bank and the ground, placed Ada on it, and reclined at her feet,
resting his head in her lap.


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