A young man turned to pay the cabman. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be
lovers in the ordinary sense. “Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. 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.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 01-07-2024 10:38:40