“Do you hear!” she said “whatever you are,
wherever you are! I will not be slave to the thought of any man, slave to the
customs of any time. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. Mr. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. Perhaps the boys had already
faced off and he had missed it, he thought sourly. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the
devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion
and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present
it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal
description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those
valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a
swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of
determined women at war with the universe. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!"
Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always
on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 07-07-2024 21:35:01