‘He told me everything, if you mean Gerald. She made me over. We haven’t. “But about last night. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. Don't suppose," she
added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the
compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. Someone, it appeared, was trying to profit from that fact. To be
sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that
shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if
all the world knew it. "What has happened?" Ruth asked. ‘Bring her to me and we shall see. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and
Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of
their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds,
their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the
flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself
fighting against. How she had hated it!… All these
mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her
brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. “Do tell me all about it. ‘You’ve found her out?’
‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 30-06-2024 05:49:44