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"I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. She pitted aspirants against each other in any way imaginable, with tests of science, math, and sometimes will alone. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. "If you won't disclose your name, I will for you! You are Jonathan Wild!" "Further concealment is needless," answered the other, pulling off his wig and black patch, and resuming his natural tone of voice; "I am Jonathan Wild!" "Say you so!" rejoined Kneebone; "then be this your passport to eternity. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 19:48:22