“I believed that he was the great multi-millionaire. So was I, in fact. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. Below it a prodigiously large bolt was shot into the socket, and, in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp, and further protected by an immense padlock. “Believe me, I know. “I am sick of it. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. I don’t! Please enlighten me. ” She said to him. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 01-07-2024 03:27:21
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