” “Then perhaps,” she answered, with a new coldness in her tone, “perhaps I really do not care. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 04:22:03