"
"If this is the extent of it, Sir," returned the knight, ironically, "you may spare
yourself further trouble. His lips were tight drawn. The intoxicating sense
of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his
shoulder. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who
wrote novels ought to be strung up. His face, as he
looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was
so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered
hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. “Just fine. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly,
made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. I don’t think
I’ve got illusions, nor you. He sprung out of the
driver’s side and ran to her door. For a while he threatened her. With a swirl of her
floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat,
accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. The man who staggers,
whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has
some chance; liquor bends him eventually.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 05-07-2024 13:17:55