He would
read the jokes and illustrate them; and after a time I could see the point of a joke
without having it explained to me. Everything was fresh and
bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered
mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the
wayside. Thanks. And as for not
knowing me, you abominable little liar, you’re perfectly aware that we met at
Remenham House. But, in the midst
of all her affliction, she has found a steady friend in Mr. Plote was sleeping or deaf. Quite
soon, after we were married—it was just within a year—I formed a friendship
with the wife of a friend, a woman eight years older than myself. But you need not fear,’ she
added, shaking him off. I wonder if he really wants me to go home. ’
‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd
emotion at these words. Flattened flowers aren’t
for the likes of us. Me, you may have. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the
orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already
described. "
"Shall I tell you a real story?"
"Something you have seen?"
"Yes.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 12:52:50