“Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!”
She did not speak. Capes sat watching and admiring her, and then he fell praising the day and
fortune and their love for each other. Michelle briskly made introductions and then joined the
fray of conversations. We have only those
phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. After
all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a
past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which
was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past
with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy,
marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim
anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their
manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line,
must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. ’
‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 20-07-2024 01:45:11