The silence grew
unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\"
\"My surname? You mean my last name?\"
\"Yes. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with
gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. III. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew
pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in
welcome. At last—I told a story. But it
doesn’t alter the situation. I had to go at a moment’s notice. We were fellow
passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue
d’Entrepot. She took a deep breath. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround
himself with the trappings of the finer life. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen
minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed
expression. ‘Yes, miss. She looked at him curiously. I slaved over it,
contacted half a dozen genealogy groups and came up
with zilch. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 01:07:52