’ ‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. The tired woman looked quietly at her. She still had her letter of credit. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. “My name is certainly Pellissier,” she said, “but I am very sorry—I do not recognize you in the least. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. I love you calling me Gérard and idiot, and I love you when you threaten me with every weapon under the sun, and—’ ‘Pah!’ interrupted Melusine, scorn in her voice. Wood.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 03-07-2024 19:27:14
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