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"
"But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of
this somewhere. ‘You would
know more of me?’
‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once
provocative and inviting. Ain't he, Madam?'"
"He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. "Why can't I?"
"You will be compromised. “Don’t come nearer!” she said. "
The lad made no answer, but left the room. ’
A wary look came over her face, and Roding intervened. ‘Precisely. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away
with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. He
looked down and met them. "
"Nonsense!"
"Something's wrong. So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object
to object. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended,
although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. She was glad not to be
baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters
64
invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. And in these crowded four weeks,
what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes
and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows,
only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had
plucked a bitter truth—she was alone.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 25-06-2024 19:48:54