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时间: 2019年12月12日 08:08

� 鈥淰ixi puellis nuper idoneus, � One allegory is as good as another, said Isola. "We can but console ourselves with symbols. I don't like this crowded city of the dead, Allegra. For God's sake, don't let Martin have me buried here, if I should die at San Remo!" � Bigourdin beamed and made a little bow. He took inordinate pride in his chambre d鈥檋onneur in which he had stored the gems of the Empire furniture acquired by his great-grandfather, the luckless G茅n茅ral de Brigade. The instantaneous appreciation of a casual glance enchanted him. hezyo高清一本道加勒比综合_鸭窝网_青青青原手机频在线现看_水莓100在线视频_国产片子_在线视频另类_无码新视觉_国产专区?91 � 鈥淭hank you,鈥?he replied, gratefully, 鈥淚 think I can now stand almost anything. I will come to see you as soon as I come out of gaol. Good-bye.鈥?For the warder had told us that the time allowed for our interview was at an end. 鈥淚 have been thinking,鈥?he said, 鈥渢hat I may perhaps never recover from this illness, and in case I do not I should like you to know that there is only one thing which weighs upon me. I refer,鈥?he continued after a slight pause, 鈥渢o my conduct towards my father and mother. I have been much too good to them. I treated them much too considerately,鈥?on which he broke into a smile which assured me that there was nothing seriously amiss with him. Alice sat down again by the fire, and picked up a piece of buttered bun with a semicircular bite out of it which had fallen on the carpet. He must have been in the middle of that mastication when the fiasco began.... Yet, he could not have been, for he had begun to smoke. Perhaps he took another bun after he had finished his cigarette.... She considered this with a detached curiosity; it seemed to occupy all her mind. Then the boy covered with buttons came in to remove the tea-tray, and she noticed he had a piece of sticking plaster in the middle of his forehead. That was interesting too and curious.... And then she had a firm, an absolute conviction that Mr Silverdale had not gone away, that he was waiting in the hall, unable to tear himself from{213} her, and yet forbidden by his pride to come back. He had only left the room a couple of minutes; and surely she would find him seated in one of the Gothic chairs in the hall, with his hand over his face. She must go to him; their eyes would meet, and somehow or other the awful misunderstanding and estrangement in which they had parted would melt away. He would say, 鈥楲ife is too strong for me; farewell the celibacy of the clergy,鈥?or something like that: or he would hold her hand for a long, a very long time, and perhaps whisper, 鈥楾hen blessings on the fallings out,鈥?or 鈥榃hatever happens, nothing must interrupt our friendship.鈥?Perhaps the farewell to the celibacy of the clergy was an exaggerated optimism, but she would be so content, so happy with much less than that (provided always that he did not say his farewell to celibacy with Julia Fyson). She would be enraptured to continue on the old terms, now that she understood what he meant and what he did not mean. And perhaps she had spoiled it all, so that he would never again hold her hand or whisper to her, or kiss her with that sort of tender and fraternal affection as once in the vestry when she had made her guileless confession to him. It was a brother-kiss, a priest-kiss, coming almost from realms above, and now she had thrown that in his teeth. She had altogether failed to understand him, him and his friendship, his comradeship (and his pawings). In the{214} fading of her anger she longed for all that which she had thought meant so much, but which she prized now for its own sake. Surely she would find him still lingering in the hall, sorrowful and unhappy and misunderstood, but not reproachful, for he was too sublime for that. He had said he was infinitely grieved several times, and he would be great enough to forgive her. Perhaps he would be too deeply hurt to make any of those appropriate little speeches she had devised for him, and if so, the reconciliation for which already she yearned, the re-establishment of their relations on the old maudlin lines, must come from her initiative. Already with that curious passion some women have for being beaten and ill-treated, she longed to humble herself, to entreat his forgiveness. * The present Water-works viaduct.