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From: | Patty Graves |
Subject: | [Formuleweb-announce] absurdity |
Date: | Tue, 19 Sep 2006 10:36:02 +0300 |
Yes, said the young man, it was a knock-out! Me,
too, thought Michael, mentally drawing that face again. Wilfrid, though still in
London, was neither visible nor spoken of.
The same young woman being kissed by the same young
manwith the same clean-cut jaw. At last his eyes and hand ceased moving, and he
stood looking atthe paper. To have hisfriendship, his admiration, but not at that
price.
The white-aproned fellow began blessing them with
oysters.
Its not asbad as having a tooth out, but it takes
longer.
Bicket was deflating with a view to going off his
stand for a cupof cocoa. Michael said: I dont know, and dropped on to a settee
besideMrs.
The chairman wasthere in conference with the
manager.
Smell ofits own, Covent Garden, earthy and just not
rotten!
Something in the sun, he thought; therereally is.
Often thought Id like to see you again, sir. You dont suppose hes easy in his mind,
do you?
Hes shifted it on to me,and in the presence of a
witness!
At a small table decorated with white oilcloth and
a cruet stand,Michael sat down.
He paused, and again the smile slid up overhis
bright hair: Or have you any other occupation?
You dont suppose hes easy in his mind, do
you?
To sit in front of a strangegentleman in her skin!
No, Miss Perren, she didnt take anything off me.
But Id rather youdidnt tell my husband Id been to
see you.
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