In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. ‘Melusine…Melusine. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 19-09-2024 01:32:50
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