“I know that our social order is dreadful
enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. ’
‘You may not get the chance. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his
friend. I’m leaving you, and you can’t stop me. Ye gods! what a
wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one
regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against
you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse
confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the
Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the
painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. A little inn flying a Swiss
flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and
lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. He
would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish
and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part
she did not care to refuse. Beneath that tree let us lie.
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This video was uploaded to golfrealestateonline.com on 15-07-2024 04:28:17