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From: | Olive Crabtree |
Subject: | [Bug-ToutDoux] sold |
Date: | Wed, 30 Aug 2006 22:09:10 -0000 |
She had tucked her arm into Lockerts; she
waschattering, altogether absorbed.
Behind his brusqueness he was saying to himself,
and timidly, Lookat the dirty looks Im getting!
Herndon and I are thoroughly pro-American.
Lockertand Fran left the Ritz at seven, to dine before the opera.
With herslim straightness she sat her aged nag like
a young cavalryofficer. Could you get up a hen party or go to themovies or
something?
He wantedto flee from this traditional stillness to
the anonymity andshielding clamor of London.
For an hour Sam tramped the apartment, too lonely
to think. After that Sam knew nothing butconfusion and babble. You donthave to send
souvenir cards about em if you dont want to! Sir Francis and Lady Ouston were very
cordial at parting.
Theyre too busy punching cattle, said Lockert; and
Mr. My legs not up to muchtoday, said Herndon. Sam and Fran were silent in the taxi
till he sighed, Sorry, honey.
Sam was glad when the train was away, and she tried
to pump up afriendly smile for him.
But the momentyou slip off to America again, it
sharpens and becomes monotonous. My legs not up to muchtoday, said Herndon. Its now
done with automatic punching-machinery, explainedLockert.
America; thisincessant, irritated, family
scolding.
His hand touched hersleeve, once rested on her
shoulder. The tower was square, crenelated, looking as though it wouldendure
forever. You have a rather decent voice when youve been under our purelyinsular
influences for a week or so. Otherwise, the General said scarcelyanything. But
Herndon was so cordial that he could not hint his resentment. Considering how many
of us are a generation orless from England, we must have several nice people! Are
you going to demand that we take Zenith with us every place wego?
You donthave to send souvenir cards about em if you
dont want to!
When they were going to bed, his accumulated anger
came out in achilly: See here, my girl!
But Fran began to speak of Paris, that feminine
andflirtatious refuge from reality.
Does he think Im the kind thatll stand it? And all
through the evening Sam kept confusing Mrs.
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