For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. “But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. They went to the Zoological Gardens together one Saturday to see for themselves a point of morphological interest about the toucan’s bill—that friendly and entertaining bird—and they spent the rest of the afternoon walking about and elaborating in general terms this theme and the superiority of intellectual fellowship to all merely passionate relationships. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. I miss her a lot.
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