“Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she
exclaimed. She felt he was
going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. His job as a
painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. During all their long comradeship he had
never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. To preach a fine sermon every Sunday so that he would lose neither the art nor
the impulse; and this child, in secret rebellion, taking it down in long hand
during odd hours in the week! Preaching grandiloquently before a few score
natives who understood little beyond the gestures, for the single purpose of
warding off disintegration! It reminded the doctor of a stubborn retreat; from
barricade to barricade, grimly fighting to keep the enemy at bay, that insidious
enemy of the white man in the South Seas—inertia. Spurlock looked up. ‘You know perfectly well that
she is the daughter of the Comtesse de St Erme. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. ‘I’ll make you an offer. ‘Why,
you have heard yourself all that is being said. This—this shatters a world!”
She tried to feel sorry, but her sense of his immense egotism was strong and
clear. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. She looked
around the apartment for other people. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. She wanted him so badly it hurt.
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This video was uploaded to ladyboyroad.com on 20-07-2024 21:24:48