The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next
pound, Sydney. Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming
on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was
all the same really. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and
cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and
zippers were bursting. ”
“Miss Ellicot! That old cat!” Sydney exclaimed indignantly. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. ‘Kimble, you
shouldn’t be here. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to
her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless,
delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like
immobility. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like
platform.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 25-06-2024 21:03:17