“You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a
snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully
and stores it away. Her
father was holding her waist, smiling. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as
you Yankees say. But he might have
broken out of prison, and yet not got over the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell. "What is she saying to me?"
Ah Cum shrugged. Very fascinating, though, trying to analyse
the impulse. That'll tune me up. "
"And why should you care whether she forgave you or not?"
Spurlock jumped to his feet, the look of the damned upon his face. That knot also would be
cut. But if Misther Wild were to
find out that I thwarted his schames——"
"I'd not be in your skin for a trifle," interrupted Quilt, who having secured
Sheppard, and delivered him to Abraham, now approached them unawares; "and
it shan't be my fault if he don't hear of it. ’
She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes. After
all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a
past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which
was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past
with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy,
marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim
anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their
manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line,
must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff.
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This video was uploaded to pleroma.gnusocial.club on 01-07-2024 22:14:26