F. Mother and Son. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. I’ve told you that practically already. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. For some seconds of voluminous thinking they looked at the ring between them, and neither spoke. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 22:41:00
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