"I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who deliberately fuddles
himself with strong drink. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go
into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. Did you hear us through the archway, talking
cookery?”
They went up by the lift in silence. There’s something about you, a little flavor of Will, I suppose,
that makes one feel—good luck about you and success. His literary
instincts began to stir. He was a civil servant of some
standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious,
nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he
described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather
carefully finished verse.
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This video was uploaded to parabolanews.com on 02-07-2024 21:47:16