She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and
trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling
interesting inacceptable things. He looked like a French
boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his
death in one of the battles they would later call the
Hundred Years War. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. And I am grateful to you. Stanley in
person. The latch came with a weak click. “I don’t
know, John. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. She
was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was
considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that
another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. He did not know—and probably never would unless
she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into
slatternly ways in this latitude. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. There must be real
Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met
one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget,
who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness?
Most of us have witnessed carnivals. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. Those
were great tricks that you pulled with the car and the
glass, but why shouldn’t I believe that this has all been an
elaborate hoax?” He asked.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 18:22:39