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Nordau, Max Simon, 1849-1923

"The Malady of the Century"


He must explain everything to her, enlarge her experience, correct
and improve her judgment. Her favorite words were, give me, show me,
tell me! From morning till night he must give, tell, show. The sea
washed up a medusa to the shore--give it me! They surprised a crab
in the act of shedding his armor--show me! A ride on donkeys to a
neighboring village reminded him of a students' picnic at
Heidelberg--tell me about it! Such of his peculiarities of temper as
she did not understand, she guessed at and felt with her fine
womanly instinct. If at Ault she had been extremely simple in her
dress, here she was almost exaggeratedly so. She banished the "kohl"
with which she had underlined her brilliant eyes, and strewed the
violet powder to the four winds, as soon as she discovered that he
preferred to stroke her full, firm cheeks when they were guiltless
of powder. She dropped her former freedom of speech, gave up the
telling of highly-spiced anecdotes, and checked her roving glances
and the frolicsome imps--somewhat too deeply versed in Boccaccio--
that haunted her lively brain, when she saw that he took umbrage at
anything the least risky. Her cigarettes horrified him, so she threw
them out of the window, and never smoked again.


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