As she talked she made weak
little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent
shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a
photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. "Why you pretended not to recognize the
photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day
yesterday. "
"Isn't that lagoon gorgeous? I wonder if there'll be sharks?"
"Not in the lagoon. "It has been … rather a hard day, Hoddy," Ruth answered. When he comes he will do that raid of the pantechnicons
the justice it deserves; he will picture the orderly evening scene about the
Imperial Legislature in convincing detail, the coming and going of cabs and
motor-cabs and broughams through the chill, damp evening into New Palace
Yard, the reinforced but untroubled and unsuspecting police about the entries of
those great buildings whose square and panelled Victorian Gothic streams up
from the glare of the lamps into the murkiness of the night; Big Ben shining
overhead, an unassailable beacon, and the incidental traffic of Westminster, cabs,
carts, and glowing omnibuses going to and from the bridge. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and,
depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. It was Celeste’s idea. But woe to those who disregard them! Of course, basically it is
all wrong; and sometimes God must laugh at our ideas of rectitude. At least that, I think, is what
makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever
man’s. It was explosive
and gratifying.
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This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 05-07-2024 11:38:40