The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see
properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes
framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue
eyes. 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. ”
Lights went on inside the house on the upper level. Only she hadn’t.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 27-06-2024 17:22:56