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From: | Magnus Valenzuela |
Subject: | [Dotgnu-libs-commits] problematic sedan |
Date: | Fri, 8 Sep 2006 09:36:17 +0200 |
![]() She took her mothers hand and stroked the bare arm.
The King of Spains daughter, he hummed as he turned the corner,came to visit me .
Digbybrushed aside this feminine effusiveness.
Hesat still with his head sunk on his breast. Ill
tell you the true story one of these days, she said as shebent to kiss her daughter
goodnight. All the same, the party from China tooka fancy to it.
The Colonel laughed; but Digby, he felt,was
annoyed.
He had not seen her alone; he had not told
heranything. And now, she said, leaning back comfortably, tell me all yournews.
Digby brushed away a white thread that hadstuck to his trousers. It was a great
honour to sit next him, Maggie, she continued. Quick, quick, quick with repeated
jerks they struckthe mouldy flesh. It worked its way under the doors, through the
windowframes; on to chests and dressers. She sighed; her body seemed to become
indolent andsuave. She put her head a little on one side and looked at her
daughterapprovingly. Pull it tight, Maggie, said Sara irritably. The dance music
interfered with everything.
They seem to think a lot of him at Oxford, he said
gruffly.
Sold was written on a strip of bright red paper
pasted across thehouse-agents board.
Then she gave a sudden laugh and threw her hand
out.
He looks older, he thought, as they stood side by
side;yet hes five years younger than I am.
He wasup in Scotland with the Lasswades
shooting.
Then against her will something in her hardened.
She picked up the little brown book which lay on the counterpaneand smoothed out the
bedclothes.
All was silent in the house at Browne Street. A
branch swayed up and down in thelittle breeze.
The light grew more andmore artificial; yellower
and yellower. Sheemphasised the rhythm still further by tapping with her fingers
onSallys bare arm.
She watched the couples comingdown the iron
staircase. Lady Pargiter stopped in the middle of hersentence.
He stood in front of the fireand looked at his
mothers picture. His coat was a little threadbare; hishair was white on
top.
Thenthere was a puff of wind; and a little cloud
crossed the moon.
Sheleft the door ajar and a dog pushed in after
her. Well, since it wasimpossible to read and impossible to sleep, she would let
herselfBE thought.
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