Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was
bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon
rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the
purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a
dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as
Miss Miniver. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where
still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the
Wastrel's passage. ”
“Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. You
will never be happy with this hanging over you. "
"I didn't suspect you of so much superstition, Mr. ”
240
“Then I’ll wait for you. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or
timorously or sentimentally. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very
dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest
but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. "And the Marchioness is your daughter," added Thames. ”
“Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?”
“Easily. This Joan would hold them for a little.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 15-07-2024 09:31:20