The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly,
and said, in a deep, arch voice:
“Talking of love again; spring again, love again. That night, she
hunted the alleyways of the old town. I would have heard her. Sheppard, with a look, the
wildness of which greatly alarmed her companion. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. She was a lone white woman,
therefore marked. Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time
in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little
book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy. Both arm-chairs had been moved
a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular
glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle
of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. Not alone with her, that’s sure. All at once
they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he
looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. I cannot live
without you, Anna. The actual danger was lost sight of in these wild
apprehensions; and many timorous beings were scared beyond reason's verge by
the excess of their fears. ”
Ann Veronica fenced for a moment. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. Brendon and Courtlaw who had been
watching for her, met her at the door.
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This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 30-06-2024 03:34:03