I shall lose my fees and the laced coat. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. We thought of starting in half an hour’s time, and trying for a theatre somewhere on the way. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. She no more realizes what she has done than a child of eight. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. I loathe this room.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMTU3LjYgLSAyMi0wOS0yMDI0IDA3OjQ5OjE3IC0gOTk2ODg0MzM=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 17-09-2024 16:06:30
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11