“Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. He’ll do. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Wild's dwelling without apprehension, or quitted it without satisfaction. “I don’t understand. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. “I hope you are going to Carey House. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 03:41:27