Give me your name, girl!’ ‘Again?’ Mademoiselle rolled her eyes. For a long time neither spoke again. Now I do. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. He hated himself a little for it. Never any doubt of it. After all, why need one look down.
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