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From: | Bod Greene |
Subject: | [Bug-dotgnu-libs] miniature quadrilateral |
Date: | Sat, 26 Aug 2006 16:31:03 +0200 |
Some of these had struck itlucky and today were
important people in the community.
If he could notget away from here what had he to
live for?
Theres a stiff stretch for that, or used to
be.
Peters told me what happened after I
left.
Not what Idcall a mate, he said, but I knew him
once. Well, youre not going to tell me hes got a ginger beard aswell? That was a
shot in the dark, as Gursey knew. Hed have to get himself out of themuddle in the
only way that seemed left to him. Didnt I bring him here and help to make
himrich?
Hishair had gone white and he walked doubled up and
leaning on astick.
Dont you think you can alter that by workingfor
him.
And by coming here, tothe very place where he was
likely to lose the little he had, hisliberty? Its so simple you wouldnt believe me,
hesaid.
His dead-grey eyes seemed to light up at
thethought, but he shook his head. And every day it became morepowerful, because
every day it gained accomplices.
Cabell must be made to stay and face it
out.
She had been spared the endless child-bearing that
hadtold on the softer Rosa Bellamy. Through the door of Sambos hut he sawGursey
leaning over the fire to warm his hands. Why must she sacrificeherself for his
mistakes?
If you only wanted to hide, why did you come back
here? He must be made into a man of high estate.
But Gursey was obscure, and Cabell left him with
doubts strongerthan ever. She was dressed in old-fashioned clothes, and wisps of
grey hair fell untidily over hereyes.
Their conflict had now reached the point where it
would be settledonce and for all, she knew. She began to look on him as a younger
Dirk,one half tainted with the dangerous old leaven. Success, money, power blotted
out the past.
He was thirty-nine, past the half-way mark of his
life.
Besides, Lizzie was a symbolof Dirks
revolt.
Now he knewthat Cabell was up against the wall. But
Ludmilla pushed her mother roughly aside. She glanced sideways at him and his head
drooped, like a dogsexpecting to be kicked. She did not feel grateful for what he
had done: rather shesuspected him more because of it. Again Cabellremembered him as
the young fanatic of Murrumburra and asked Canthis be the same man?
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