I’d rather starve!”
For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world,
with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes,
its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much
as an animal goes out to seek food. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of
his adventures, which may be briefly told. The place was pockmarked with
window-like holes everywhere—people were always
138
falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these
lookouts why she had chosen it. “You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each
of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. "It was given me by poor dear Mrs. "Mr. I must not let you go again.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 04-07-2024 04:21:34