You must
think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. My father died a year ago, by the way. "Good Lord!—cannibals?"
"Aye. His invalid wife and her
money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that
permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine
experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. For hours he seemed to have pleasant
dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams
would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares
where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. What about them?”
He called a hansom. His head bent down, intent on kissing her
underneath the showerhead. “I should make sure that he
doesn’t try to drive himself home. ”
“Yes,” said Ann Veronica, “I agree to that.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 05:54:15