‘She may well try to go back. ’ ‘I’m not going to release you, so it’s no use complaining. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. ” Well, it was beyond dispute that these words did convey a certain quality of the Movements in general amid which Miss Miniver disported herself. She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. “You are beautiful, Lucy. It was a grand life. . Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 17-09-2024 16:54:16
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