9. ” Michelle sat in a yogi’s posture on the cold plywood, her eyes closed as if meditating. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. I went to the theatre that night.
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