CHAPTER 5
PART XXXI
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER 5Visible text2 paragraphs
When she passed the house and saw the long rows of yellow blinds in the grey front she thought of him. He would not come back. He had never come before, so it wasn't likely he would come again.
His being there was one of the things that only happened once. Perhaps those were the perfect things, the things that would never pass away; they would stay forever, beautiful as you had seen them, fixed in their moment of perfection, wearing the very air and light of it forever.