She will not confide in me. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I
dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore. ”
She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to:
“What’s the good of pretending?
“I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and
went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the
biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of
and indifferent to her proceedings. Winds
returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not
bloom. "
"None whatever," replied the mob. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. ”
She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep. "And the rings?"
"Ja.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 21-06-2024 21:22:00