She was a tree like that, a pot like that, a pan like that. I was
wearing a hat like that, a wig like that.
She was becoming more earthly as I turned. I have never had any
complaints about her. Do you want her?
"No," you say?
Take her, I say.
"No," you still say?
Certain other people think you must. You are making the biggest
mistake of your life. She is Norwegian enough, more of an inhabitant than
I thought she was. When they were holding her, she looked fatigued in the
field of thought. It is an impression I have of her that is not flexible
enough to be spread out.