Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. That was odd: when young people were joyous, they had to express it physically. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 12:08:17