It had her raven locks,
her pouting lips. People who would not go. I wanted
to have something to give up. The thought of
their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact—
disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. She visited the corner that had been her own
little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed
into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered
that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she
had been wont to read her secret letters. But I
do not even care if I am absurd. ‘And this is not all,’ went on the lady, evidently determined to disclose all her
wrongs. ’
‘Eh?’
Almost Melusine betrayed herself at his startled look. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with
an Eastern custom.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 15-07-2024 10:50:01