"Rather cramped, eh?"
"Rather so, Sir," replied the other, altering his position. "
CHAPTER XX
To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting
out the old world. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood;
And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood;
A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows,
Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows,
Might tipple strong beer,
Their spirits to cheer,
And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear!
For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles!
II. "
"Nothing in the pockets. And Miss Miniver fell discussing
whether Goopes or Bernard Shaw or Tolstoy or Doctor Tumpany or Wilkins the
author had the more powerful and perfect mind in existence at the present time. "
"I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. "
"There are bad stories, then, just as there are bad people?"
"Yes. I just thought perhaps a different boy was in store
for you. “I think you are getting to
understand me better. There were neither texts nor
rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel
engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. The idiots are marching through the streets in
processions from town to town, whipping their own
backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the
bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the
streets like timber. Because she states
her case in a tangle, drags it through swamps of nonsense, it doesn’t alter the fact
that she is right. She drifted back into
the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded
in silk.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 27-06-2024 19:58:07