He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. Passing thought. That’s Italians for you. The villagers were thronging to church. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. It may be instinctive; it may be that children vaguely realize that at the end of all wedding journeys is disillusion. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 27-06-2024 21:07:34
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