My arm's nearly well again. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. But, though the latter was somewhat embarrassed by his burthen, he peremptorily declined Jonathan's offer of assistance. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. A drunken idea, Ah Cum had called it. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste.
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This video was uploaded to ssibasmatirice.com on 09-06-2024 01:04:55
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