She was, indeed, that Golden Creature, blind as brute force, whose very odor ruined the world.
Muffat gazed and gazed as a man possessed, till at last, when he had shut his eyes in order to escape it, the Brute reappeared in the darkness of the brain, larger, more terrible, more suggestive in its attitude.

Now, he understood, it would remain before his eyes, in his very flesh, forever.
But Nana was gathering herself together.

A little thrill of tenderness seemed to have traversed her members.

Her eyes were moist; she tried, as it were, to make herself small, as though she could feel herself better thus.

Then she threw her head and bosom back and, melting, as it were, in one great bodily caress, she rubbed her cheeks coaxingly, first against one shoulder, then against the other.