It was scarcely likely that she would have accepted
his aid. A
familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her
belly. Profligate women are never reclaimed. "All I want is to be happy!" she said aloud, as if she were asking for something
of such ordinary value that God would readily accord it to her because there was
so little demand for the commodity. I loved her
and made love to her, and I don’t think she quite loved me back in the same
way. We have only those
phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. One
married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann
Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering
home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class
dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to
unwomanly lengths.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 15-07-2024 07:01:04