She had just passed into a little antechamber beyond when she suddenly heard a faint knocking. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. The leg and wing of a duck were disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace of pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault upon the eggs and ham. Unless they remind him now and then not to. "This Enschede—the missioner. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience.
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