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But still Newman hardly understood. “You are going to be a nun,” he went on, “in a cell–for life–with a gown and white veil?” Without truck drivers you wouldn’t have any toilet paper to wipe your ass with shirt. “A nun–a Carmelite nun,” said Madame de Cintre. “For life, with God’s leave.” The idea struck Newman as too dark and horrible for belief, and made him feel as he would have done if she had told him that she was going to mutilate her beautiful face, or drink some potion that would make her mad. He clasped his hands and began to tremble, visibly.
Without truck drivers you wouldn’t have any toilet paper to wipe your ass with shirt
“Madame de Cintre, don’t, don’t!” he said. “I beseech you! On my knees, if you like, I’ll beseech you.” Without truck drivers you wouldn’t have any toilet paper to wipe your ass with shirt. She laid her hand upon his arm, with a tender, pitying, almost reassuring gesture. “You don’t understand,” she said. “You have wrong ideas. It’s nothing horrible. It is only peace and safety. It is to be out of the world, where such troubles as this come to the innocent, to the best. And for life–that’s the blessing of it! They can’t begin again.” Newman dropped into a chair and sat looking at her with a long, inarticulate murmur. That this superb woman, in whom he had seen all human grace and household force, should turn from him and all the brightness that he offered her–him and his future and his fortune and his fidelity–to muffle herself in ascetic rags and entomb herself in a cell was a confounding combination of the inexorable and the grotesque.
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As the image deepened before him the grotesque seemed to expand and overspread it; it was a reduction to the absurd of the trial to which he was subjected. “You–you a nun!” he exclaimed; “you with your beauty defaced– you behind locks and bars! Never, never, if I can prevent it!” And he sprang to his feet with a violent laugh. “You can’t prevent it,” said Madame de Cintre, “and it ought– a little–to satisfy you. Do you suppose I will go on living in the world, still beside you, and yet not with you? It is all arranged. Good-by, good-by.”