Part 4
But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed
her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with
its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped
furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and
had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. He
died when I was. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg,
the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his
hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. Her father
read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for
managing while the cook had a holiday. E. ’
‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’
‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. She then dried her
eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him. Agreeably he
helped her take the shirt off.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 16:02:35