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She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “You’re kidding, right?” “Not kidding at all. You should have confided in me, and fallen in with my plan at the beginning.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 09:20:54