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Thackeray, William Makepeace, 1811-1863

"The Best British Short Stories of 1922"

Spiritual agencies that tap, and actually float, bless their
hearts! I think just one more of those mulberries--thank you.
"They talk about 'blind Love,'" she ran inconsequently on as she helped
herself, with eyes fixed on the dish, "but why blind? I think, do you
know, from weeping over its rickets. After all, it is we plain women
that triumph, Mr. Withers, beyond the mockery of time. Alice, now!
Fleeting, fleeting is youth, my child! What's that you were confiding
to your plate, Arthur? Satirical boy! He laughs at his old aunt: nay,
but thou didst laugh. He detests all sentiment. He whispers the most
acid asides. Come, my love, we will leave these cynics; we will go and
commiserate with each other on our sex. The choice of two evils, Mr.
Smithers!" I opened the door, and she swept out as if borne on a
torrent of unintelligible indignation; and Arthur and I were left in
the clear four-flamed light alone.
For a while we sat in silence. He shook his head at my cigarette-case,
and I lit a cigarette. Presently he fidgeted in his chair and poked his
head forward into the light.


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