The light disappeared. He renewed
his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the
greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety,
if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. "Can you not love him?"
"Love him!" echoed the widow. As she sat the bride actually woke up, sat up, and
looked frightfully around the room. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see,
because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life,
and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. She went into premature labor. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed
to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Surely she could ignore him.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 21-06-2024 07:25:42