"Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. “An Oracle you are! Sebastian never told me he’d made one!” Rhea screamed a scream that was part horror and part laughter. ” “That settles it. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. The boy she had loved was gone. The gong will go at seven-thirty. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. , like to forget all about it—even their names.
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