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From: | Marion Stephens |
Subject: | [Bug-gne] moratorium |
Date: | Mon, 11 Sep 2006 20:20:27 -0400 |
The only place where oratory is now practised as an
art . North was glad to go; but where was he to go now? North was glad to go; but
where was he to go now? Very glad to see you back, North, said Edward, and shook
himwarmly by the hand. Come to Ireland and see for yourself, mlady, he said
grimly.
He repeatedthat too, but critically, as if he were
actor and critic; helistened but he commented.
How thevoice, the supercilious voice, brought it
back! She held her glass infront of her as though it were a bauble.
A spoon for me, said her husband, looking up at
her. And thats all right, North said to himself.
Youll write one little book, and then another
little book, shesaid viciously, instead of living . She took up a red rose andheld
it under the light, so that it shone, veined, semi-transparent. He had the air of
being stamped, North thought;he had kept something, after all, out of the hubbub.
The words had stung him out of all proportion to theirsurface meaning. I shall pay
for it, I shall pay for it, I kept saying tomyself even in the Roman camp, she
thought. Glazed over with the smooth glossy varnish that thosein authority wear. You
cant geta rise out of me at this time of day, my good fellow.
So were her eyes;she ought to have worn a
pince-nez; but she did not. There wassomething sealed up, stated, about him. His
mind could nolonger stretch beyond its beat.
The night I let myself out ofthe window by a
rope.
No, it wasbecause she criticised him, she thought.
The son of theporter at my flat, she explained. You go first, Patrick, they heard
Lady Lasswade boom out in hergenial loud voice. In the name of all whohave enjoyed
themselves tonight. Old Eleanor, with allher rambling and stumbling, was worth a
dozen of Peggy any day.
A polite gentleman pushed forward a little gilt
chair upon whichshe sat down.
I shall pay for it, I shall pay for it, I kept
saying tomyself even in the Roman camp, she thought.
Then she sat down beside Kitty, whowas gulping her
soup like a child at a school treat.
Youve filled out, said Edward, looking him up and
down.
My dear Kitty, Patrick interrupted, patting her
hand with hisgreat paw. The words had stung him out of all proportion to
theirsurface meaning.
Each was already part of alittle group, he felt as
he listened, keeping on the outskirts. But go on with your speech, Nicholas, said
Eleanor, turning tohim.
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