He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. He took her
hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. He nodded silently, too full for words. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a
highly meretricious quality caught her eye. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car,
having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was
158
dissolved where it lay. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her,
he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last
she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay
awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. But I shan't let him off thus. .
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 04-07-2024 06:55:45