“No, I’m fine. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 10-06-2024 22:06:52
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