The doorman replied, tipping his cap, “I don’t speak much Italian these days, not since my mother died. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 19-09-2024 07:20:14
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