‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. ’
Gerald laughed. He cocked an eyebrow. In this attempt he was, however, foiled by the
agility of the carpenter, who managed to retreat to the door, against which he
placed his back, kicking the boards vigorously with his heel. She hadn't
measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. Tell me how you are earning your living
here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?”
“I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. Why
wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide
their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people
say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about
what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good
will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one
name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about
him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal
sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. ”
They were lingering over their dessert. That
was the true marvel of it. It is the only way. ’
‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. There was little fighting spirit here. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch
roles as she had over the past weeks. So she approached
him with sandwiches.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 15-07-2024 10:15:54