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From: | Ada Slaughter |
Subject: | [Emacs-commit] vertical souffle |
Date: | Sat, 19 Aug 2006 23:45:06 -0500 |
For he hadlifted his eyes upon her, and his knowing
look seemed to haveentered her brain.
Its what the village will have to say, she said. It
is his business to find it and collect it andcommunicate it to the rest of us. You
arent willing to putyourselves into it. She examined hergun, and cleaned it, musing
abstractedly by the lamplight. She went out, and suddenly she knewit was the fox
singing. It was the same old, slow, laconic way of speech March always had. How is
it you didnt know if your grandfather was alive or dead?
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. The
youth relaxed his clasp of hisknees, pulled himself together a little, and looked
round.
Above all, she did not want him tolook at her. Why,
I was too much surprised, I suppose.
I dont mind, said March, in her distinct
tone.
She awoke with thepain of it, and lay trembling as
if she were really seared. Unable to conjureanything up, she went into the
sitting-room with her tray. At last she became aware that Banford was calling her.
Again the face of the youth tightened with delighted laughter. He gave an odd little
groan as he swung off his kit.
So he had run away toCanada, and worked far away in
the West. Banford was a small, thin, delicate thing with spectacles.
The calm scorn ofthe girls tickled him
tremendously.
March looked atit all, saw it all, and did not see
it.
She still looked for him unconsciously whenshe went
towards the wood. But all thetime she was as if spellbound. It was as if she could
smellhim at these times.
It isnt, is it, he answered in his soft, near
voice. Both Banford and March disbelieved inliving for work alone.
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