’ ‘Ain’t it? Want me to give you some time with her? Not that I think she’ll tell you anything. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. The whole story of your relationship is a fabrication. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. An electric light flashed out from the wall. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 07:18:21