He was
always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you
for your wealth. That’s the difficulty. “I ought to have done anything!
“What’s a man for?
“Friendship!”
He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the
window. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and
Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of
their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds,
their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the
flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself
fighting against. “You’ll do no such thing, Sheila.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 26-06-2024 20:44:58