“What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding the change, and it was with
difficulty he could command himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he
desired to do respecting the former owner of the house. ’
Gerald stood back, and watched her cross the room to the closed French doors. After
all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a
past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which
was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past
with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy,
marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim
anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their
manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line,
must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. The stores, the drying bins,
McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an exquisite
landlocked lagoon. Come down with me to the Lodge directly.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 03:15:56