the past made a wall between us
washed overboard and drowned
damp and thick.
The time dragged by.
'The sea-cocks
I would think of the blown lilac, and the Happy Valley. These things were permanent, they could not be dissolved. They were memories that cannot hurt
Her curiosity was a disease, almost a mania.
It meant I was a youthful thing and unimportant, and that there was no need to include me in the conversation. She always spoke in that tone when she wished to be impressive, and her method of introduction was a form of self-protection, for once I had been taken for her daughter, an acute embarrassment for us both.
You have a very lovely and unusual name.”
“My father was a lovely and unusual person.”
“My father was a lovely and unusual person.”
You’ve taken me out of myself, out of despondency and introspection, both of which have been my devils for a year
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