Only one thing emerged with
any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was
saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is
unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a
trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage
was an experience to be strenuously evaded. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big
wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’
‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. Something changed for her. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass
of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one
coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of
its own assertions. For although I must
confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such
thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a
sinking heart. Mrs
Sindlesham occupied a large padded armchair to one side of a corner fireplace,
which gave out a heat more than adequate for September to one of the major’s
robust constitution. Occasionally he relit his
pipe.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 24-06-2024 02:41:59