The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. She kept her face downcast. ’ She was backing across the room, moving towards the screen. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. She proffered her neck towards him. ‘Obsessed, that’s what you are. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. " "And a famoush goot shignal it ish," laughed Abraham.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 10:04:52