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“If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would
understand. “Yes. I’ve been thinking, you know—I’m not
sure that primarily the perception of beauty isn’t just intensity of feeling free
from pain; intensity of perception without any tissue destruction. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone
remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen
yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to
send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you
to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to
give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like
his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all
this, I suppose. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked
frenetically from class to class. ”
She picked at her sandwich idly. It
was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. I tell you, if you do not
help me this instant, you will find that your major he will very likely shoot you. One
only. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have
managed somehow. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral
pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he
had done?
He stared dully at the footrail.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 02-07-2024 21:09:15