Arrived within a short distance of his
destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the
woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. Yes; she had heard the music the night before. Gianfrancesco had
told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with
his brothers. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world,
with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes,
its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much
as an animal goes out to seek food. "Not a syllable!" answered the carpenter, angrily. “His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. Was
there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully
furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were
they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a
rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going
astray. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the
water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely
standing still.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 00:58:26