I wanted to, that day in the Zoo. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked his way to it. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes.
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