n collar and lick her lips. "Elayne, you have to wear it. Too many of them have seen Min for her to do it. I would have worn it, if this dress had fit you instead." She thought she would have gone mad if she had had to wear the collar,fake rolex watches; that was why she could not make her voice sharp with Elayne now.
"I know." Elayne sighed. "I just wish I knew more of what it does to you." She drew her red-gold hair out of the way. "Min, help me, please." Min began undoing the buttons down the back of her dress.
Nynaeve managed to pick up the silver collar without flinching. "There is one way to find out." With only a moment of hesitation, she bent and snapped it around the neck of the sul'dam. She deserves it if anyone does, she told herself firmly. "She might be able to tell us something useful, anyway." The blue-eyed woman glanced at the leash trailing from her neck to Nynaeve's wrist, then glared up at her contemptuously.
"It doesn't work that way," Min said, but Nynaeve barely heard.
She was . . . aware . . . of the other woman, aware of what she was feeling, cord digging into her ankles and into her wrists behind her back, the rank fish taste of the rags in her mouth, straw pricking her through the thin cloth of her shift,fake chanel bags. It was not as if she, Nynaeve, felt these things, but in her head was a lump of sensations that she knew belonged to the sul'dam.
She swallowed, trying to ignore them - they would not go away - and addressed the bound woman. "I won't hurt you if you answer my questions truthfully. We aren't Seanchan. But if you lie to me ,jordan shoes for sale. . . ." She lifted the leash threateningly,link.
The woman's shoulders shook, and her mouth curled around the gag in a sneer. It took Nynaeve a moment to realize the sul'dam was laughing.
Her mouth tightened, but then a thought came to her. That bundle of sensation inside her head seemed to be everything physical that the other woman felt. Experimentally, she tried adding to it.
Eyes suddenly bulging out of her head, the sul'dam gave a cry that the gag only partially stopped. Fanning
2012年12月30日星期日
2012年12月18日星期二
楂樺涓殑鐢蜂汉 The Man in the High Castle_207
stumbled,replica chanel bags. Nothing to catch, even.
As he fell he clutched within his coat the silver triangle thing Mr. Childan had urged on him. Did not save me, he thought. Did not help. All that endeavor.
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I thought it was merely plastics, he thought. Important mold salesman. Oracle guessed and gave clue, but --
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What had the oracle last said? To his query in the office as those two lay dying or dead. Sixty-one. Inner Truth. Pigs and fishes are least intelligent of all; hard to convince. It is I. The book means me. I will never fully understand; that is the nature of such creatures. Or is this Inner Truth now, this that is happening to me?
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That evening, just after the dinner meal, a police officer came to Frank Frink's cell, unlocked the door, and told him to go pick up his possessions at the desk,http://www.australiachanelbags.com/.
Shor
As he fell he clutched within his coat the silver triangle thing Mr. Childan had urged on him. Did not save me, he thought. Did not help. All that endeavor.
His body struck the floor. Hands and knees, gasping, the carpet at his nose. Mr. Ramsey now rushing about bleating. Keep equipoise, Mr. Tagomi thought.
"I'm having a small heart attack," Mr. Tagomi managed to say.
Several persons were involved, now, transporting him to couch. "Be calm, sir," one was telling him.
"Notify wife, please," Mr. Tagomi said.
Presently he heard ambulance noises. Wailing from street. Plus much bustle. People coming and going. A blanket was put over him, up to his armpits. Tie removed. Collar loosened.
"Better now," Mr. Tagomi said,rolex submariner replica. He lay comfortably, not trying to stir. Career over anyhow, he decided. German consul no doubt raise row higher up. Complain about incivility. Right to so complain, perhaps. Anyhow, work done. As far as I can, my part. Rest up to Tokyo and factions in Germany. Struggle beyond me in any case.
I thought it was merely plastics, he thought. Important mold salesman. Oracle guessed and gave clue, but --
"Remove his shirt," a voice stated. No doubt building's physician. Highly authoritative tone; Mr. Tagomi smiled. Tone is everything.
Could this, Mr. Tagomi wondered, be the answer? Mystery of body organism, its own knowledge. Time to quit. Or time partially to quit. A purpose, which I must acquiesce to.
What had the oracle last said? To his query in the office as those two lay dying or dead. Sixty-one. Inner Truth. Pigs and fishes are least intelligent of all; hard to convince. It is I. The book means me. I will never fully understand; that is the nature of such creatures. Or is this Inner Truth now, this that is happening to me?
I will wait. I will see. Which it is,best replica rolex watches.
Perhaps it is both.
That evening, just after the dinner meal, a police officer came to Frank Frink's cell, unlocked the door, and told him to go pick up his possessions at the desk,http://www.australiachanelbags.com/.
Shor
绾冲凹浜氫紶濂囷細鐙瓙濂冲帆榄旇。姗盩he Lion,The Witch And_118
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2012年12月8日星期六
It was Orlando’s fault perhaps
It was Orlando’s fault perhaps,fake uggs for sale; yet, after all, are we to blame Orlando? The age was the Elizabethan; their morals were not ours; nor their poets; nor their climate; nor their vegetables even. Everything was different. The weather itself, the heat and cold of summer and winter, was, we may believe, of another temper altogether. The brilliant amorous day was divided as sheerly from the night as land from water. Sunsets were redder and more intense; dawns were whiter and more auroral. Of our crepuscular half-lights and lingering twilights they knew nothing. The rain fell vehemently, or not at all. The sun blazed or there was darkness. Translating this to the spiritual regions as their wont is, the poets sang beautifully how roses fade and petals fall. The moment is brief they sang; the moment is over; one long night is then to be slept by all. As for using the artifices of the greenhouse or conservatory to prolong or preserve these fresh pinks and roses, that was not their way. The withered intricacies and ambiguities of our more gradual and doubtful age were unknown to them. Violence was all. The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice. Girls were roses, and their seasons were short as the flowers’. Plucked they must be before nightfall; for the day was brief and the day was all. Thus, if Orlando followed the leading of the climate, of the poets, of the age itself, and plucked his flower in the window-seat even with the snow on the ground and the Queen vigilant in the corridor we can scarcely bring ourselves to blame him,cheap foamposites. He was young; he was boyish; he did but as nature bade him do. As for the girl, we know no more than Queen Elizabeth herself did what her name was. It may have been Doris, Chloris, Delia, or Diana, for he made rhymes to them all in turn; equally, she may have been a court lady, or some serving maid. For Orlando’s taste was broad; he was no lover of garden flowers only; the wild and the weeds even had always a fascination for him.
Here, indeed, we lay bare rudely, as a biographer may, a curious trait in him, to be accounted for, perhaps, by the fact that a certain grandmother of his had worn a smock and carried milkpails. Some grains of the Kentish or Sussex earth were mixed with the thin, fine fluid which came to him from Normandy. He held that the mixture of brown earth and blue blood was a good one. Certain it is that he had always a liking for low company, especially for that of lettered people whose wits so often keep them under, as if there were the sympathy of blood between them. At this season of his life, when his head brimmed with rhymes and he never went to bed without striking off some conceit, the cheek of an innkeeper’s daughter seemed fresher and the wit of a gamekeeper’s niece seemed quicker than those of the ladies at Court. Hence, he began going frequently to Wapping Old Stairs and the beer gardens at night, wrapped in a grey cloak to hide the star at his neck and the garter at his knee. There, with a mug before him, among the sanded alleys and bowling greens and all the simple architecture of such places,mont blanc pens, he listened to sailors’ stories of hardship and horror and cruelty on the Spanish main,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/; how some had lost their toes, others their noses — for the spoken story was never so rounded or so finely coloured as the written. Especially he loved to hear them volley forth their songs of ‘the Azores, while the parrakeets, which they had brought from those parts, pecked at the rings in their ears, tapped with their hard acquisitive beaks at the rubies on their fingers, and swore as vilely as their masters. The women were scarcely less bold in their speech and less free in their manner than the birds. They perched on his knee, flung their arms round his neck and, guessing that something out of the common lay hid beneath his duffle cloak, were quite as eager to come at the truth of the matter as Orlando himself.
Here, indeed, we lay bare rudely, as a biographer may, a curious trait in him, to be accounted for, perhaps, by the fact that a certain grandmother of his had worn a smock and carried milkpails. Some grains of the Kentish or Sussex earth were mixed with the thin, fine fluid which came to him from Normandy. He held that the mixture of brown earth and blue blood was a good one. Certain it is that he had always a liking for low company, especially for that of lettered people whose wits so often keep them under, as if there were the sympathy of blood between them. At this season of his life, when his head brimmed with rhymes and he never went to bed without striking off some conceit, the cheek of an innkeeper’s daughter seemed fresher and the wit of a gamekeeper’s niece seemed quicker than those of the ladies at Court. Hence, he began going frequently to Wapping Old Stairs and the beer gardens at night, wrapped in a grey cloak to hide the star at his neck and the garter at his knee. There, with a mug before him, among the sanded alleys and bowling greens and all the simple architecture of such places,mont blanc pens, he listened to sailors’ stories of hardship and horror and cruelty on the Spanish main,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/; how some had lost their toes, others their noses — for the spoken story was never so rounded or so finely coloured as the written. Especially he loved to hear them volley forth their songs of ‘the Azores, while the parrakeets, which they had brought from those parts, pecked at the rings in their ears, tapped with their hard acquisitive beaks at the rubies on their fingers, and swore as vilely as their masters. The women were scarcely less bold in their speech and less free in their manner than the birds. They perched on his knee, flung their arms round his neck and, guessing that something out of the common lay hid beneath his duffle cloak, were quite as eager to come at the truth of the matter as Orlando himself.
‘And if I were dead
‘And if I were dead, it would be just the same!’ she exclaimed.
Such was the intensity of her feelings that she could even imagine that she had suffered dissolution, and perhaps some faintness actually attacked her. For a moment she stood looking at the fair, indifferent spectacle with staring eyes. At length she was revived in a singular way. The manuscript which reposed above her heart began shuffling and beating as if it were a living thing, and, what was still odder, and showed how fine a sympathy was between them, Orlando, by inclining her head, could make out what it was that it was saying. It wanted to be read. It must be read. It would die in her bosom if it were not read. For the first time in her life she turned with violence against nature. Elk-hounds and rose bushes were about her in profusion. But elk-hounds and rose bushes can none of them read. It is a lamentable oversight on the part of Providence which had never struck her before. Human beings alone are thus gifted. Human beings had become necessary. She rang the bell. She ordered the carriage to take her to London at once.
‘There’s just time to catch the eleven forty five, M’Lady,’ said Basket. Orlando had not yet realized the invention of the steam engine, but such was her absorption in the sufferings of a being, who, though not herself, yet entirely depended on her, that she saw a railway train for the first time, took her seat in a railway carriage, and had the rug arranged about her knees without giving a thought to ‘that stupendous invention, which had (the historians say) completely changed the face of Europe in the past twenty years’ (as, indeed, happens much more frequently than historians suppose). She noticed only that it was extremely smutty; rattled horribly; and the windows stuck. Lost in thought, she was whirled up to London in something less than an hour and stood on the platform at Charing Cross, not knowing where to go.
The old house at Blackfriars, where she had spent so many pleasant days in the eighteenth century, was now sold, part to the Salvation Army, part to an umbrella factory. She had bought another in Mayfair which was sanitary, convenient, and in the heart of the fashionable world, but was it in Mayfair that her poem would be relieved of its desire? Pray God, she thought, remembering the brightness of their ladyships’ eyes and the symmetry of their lordship’s legs, they haven’t taken to reading there. For that would be a thousand pities. Then there was Lady R.’s. The same sort of talk would be going on there still, she had no doubt. The gout might have shifted from the General’s left leg to his right, perhaps. Mr L. might have stayed ten days with R. instead of T. Then Mr Pope would come in. Oh! but Mr Pope was dead. Who were the wits now,Replica Designer Handbags, she wondered — but that was not a question one could put to a porter, and so she moved on,Moncler outlet online store. Her ears were now distracted by the jingling of innumerable bells on the heads of innumerable horses. Fleets of the strangest little boxes on wheels were drawn up by the pavement. She walked out into the Strand. There the uproar was even worse,homepage. Vehicles of all sizes, drawn by blood horses and by dray horses, conveying one solitary dowager or crowded to the top by whiskered men in silk hats, were inextricably mixed. Carriages, carts, and omnibuses seemed to her eyes, so long used to the look of a plain sheet of foolscap, alarmingly at loggerheads; and to her ears, attuned to a pen scratching, the uproar of the street sounded violently and hideously cacophonous,cheap foamposites. Every inch of the pavement was crowded. Streams of people, threading in and out between their own bodies and the lurching and lumbering traffic with incredible agility, poured incessantly east and west. Along the edge of the pavement stood men, holding out trays of toys, and bawled. At corners, women sat beside great baskets of spring flowers and bawled. Boys running in and out of the horses’ noses, holding printed sheets to their bodies, bawled too, Disaster! Disaster! At first Orlando supposed that she had arrived at some moment of national crisis; but whether it was happy or tragic, she could not tell. She looked anxiously at people’s faces. But that confused her still more. Here would come by a man sunk in despair, muttering to himself as if he knew some terrible sorrow. Past him would nudge a fat, jolly-faced fellow, shouldering his way along as if it were a festival for all the world. Indeed, she came to the conclusion that there was neither rhyme nor reason in any of it. Each man and each woman was bent on his own affairs. And where was she to go?
Such was the intensity of her feelings that she could even imagine that she had suffered dissolution, and perhaps some faintness actually attacked her. For a moment she stood looking at the fair, indifferent spectacle with staring eyes. At length she was revived in a singular way. The manuscript which reposed above her heart began shuffling and beating as if it were a living thing, and, what was still odder, and showed how fine a sympathy was between them, Orlando, by inclining her head, could make out what it was that it was saying. It wanted to be read. It must be read. It would die in her bosom if it were not read. For the first time in her life she turned with violence against nature. Elk-hounds and rose bushes were about her in profusion. But elk-hounds and rose bushes can none of them read. It is a lamentable oversight on the part of Providence which had never struck her before. Human beings alone are thus gifted. Human beings had become necessary. She rang the bell. She ordered the carriage to take her to London at once.
‘There’s just time to catch the eleven forty five, M’Lady,’ said Basket. Orlando had not yet realized the invention of the steam engine, but such was her absorption in the sufferings of a being, who, though not herself, yet entirely depended on her, that she saw a railway train for the first time, took her seat in a railway carriage, and had the rug arranged about her knees without giving a thought to ‘that stupendous invention, which had (the historians say) completely changed the face of Europe in the past twenty years’ (as, indeed, happens much more frequently than historians suppose). She noticed only that it was extremely smutty; rattled horribly; and the windows stuck. Lost in thought, she was whirled up to London in something less than an hour and stood on the platform at Charing Cross, not knowing where to go.
The old house at Blackfriars, where she had spent so many pleasant days in the eighteenth century, was now sold, part to the Salvation Army, part to an umbrella factory. She had bought another in Mayfair which was sanitary, convenient, and in the heart of the fashionable world, but was it in Mayfair that her poem would be relieved of its desire? Pray God, she thought, remembering the brightness of their ladyships’ eyes and the symmetry of their lordship’s legs, they haven’t taken to reading there. For that would be a thousand pities. Then there was Lady R.’s. The same sort of talk would be going on there still, she had no doubt. The gout might have shifted from the General’s left leg to his right, perhaps. Mr L. might have stayed ten days with R. instead of T. Then Mr Pope would come in. Oh! but Mr Pope was dead. Who were the wits now,Replica Designer Handbags, she wondered — but that was not a question one could put to a porter, and so she moved on,Moncler outlet online store. Her ears were now distracted by the jingling of innumerable bells on the heads of innumerable horses. Fleets of the strangest little boxes on wheels were drawn up by the pavement. She walked out into the Strand. There the uproar was even worse,homepage. Vehicles of all sizes, drawn by blood horses and by dray horses, conveying one solitary dowager or crowded to the top by whiskered men in silk hats, were inextricably mixed. Carriages, carts, and omnibuses seemed to her eyes, so long used to the look of a plain sheet of foolscap, alarmingly at loggerheads; and to her ears, attuned to a pen scratching, the uproar of the street sounded violently and hideously cacophonous,cheap foamposites. Every inch of the pavement was crowded. Streams of people, threading in and out between their own bodies and the lurching and lumbering traffic with incredible agility, poured incessantly east and west. Along the edge of the pavement stood men, holding out trays of toys, and bawled. At corners, women sat beside great baskets of spring flowers and bawled. Boys running in and out of the horses’ noses, holding printed sheets to their bodies, bawled too, Disaster! Disaster! At first Orlando supposed that she had arrived at some moment of national crisis; but whether it was happy or tragic, she could not tell. She looked anxiously at people’s faces. But that confused her still more. Here would come by a man sunk in despair, muttering to himself as if he knew some terrible sorrow. Past him would nudge a fat, jolly-faced fellow, shouldering his way along as if it were a festival for all the world. Indeed, she came to the conclusion that there was neither rhyme nor reason in any of it. Each man and each woman was bent on his own affairs. And where was she to go?
2012年12月5日星期三
there you are
“Oh, there you are, Skeeter.” She look at us both kind a funny. “I’m sorry, did I . . . interrupt something?” We both stand there, wondering what she might a heard.
“I have to run,” Miss Skeeter says. “See you tomorrow, Elizabeth.” She open the back door, say, “Thanks, Aibileen, for lunch,” and she gone.
I go in the dining room,fake uggs for sale, start clearing the bridge table. And just like I knew she would, Miss Leefolt come in behind me wearing her upset smile. Her neck’s sticking out like she fixing to ask me something. She don’t like me talking to her friends when she ain’t around, never has,Moncler Outlet. Always wanting to know what we saying. I go right on past her into the kitchen. I put Baby Girl in her high chair and start cleaning the oven.
Miss Leefolt follow me in there, eyeball a bucket a Crisco, put it down. Baby Girl hold her arms out for her mama to pick her up, but Miss Leefolt open a cabinet,Moncler outlet online store, act like she don’t see. Then she slam it close, open another one. Finally she just stand there. I’m down on my hands and knees. Pretty soon my head’s so far in that oven I look like I’m trying to gas myself.
“You and Miss Skeeter looked like you were talking awful serious about something.”
“No ma’am, she just... asking do I want some old clothes,” I say and it sound like I’m down in a well-hole. Grease already working itself up my arms. Smell like a underarm in here. Don’t take no time fore sweat’s running down my nose and ever time I scratch at it, I get a plug a crud on my face. Got to be the worst place in the world, inside a oven. You in here, you either cleaning or you getting cooked. Tonight I just know I’m on have that dream I’m stuck inside and the gas gets turned on. But I keep my head in that awful place cause I’d rather be anywhere sides answering Miss Leefolt’s questions about what Miss Skeeter was trying to say to me. Asking do I want to change things.
After while, Miss Leefolt huff and go out to the carport. I figure she looking at where she gone build me my new colored bathroom.
Chapter 2
YOU’D NEVER KNOW IT living here, but Jackson, Mississippi, be filled with two hundred thousand peoples. I see them numbers in the paper and I got to wonder, where do them peoples live? Underground,shox torch 2? Cause I know just about everbody on my side a the bridge and plenty a white families too, and that sure don’t add up to be no two hundred thousand.
Six days a week, I take the bus across the Woodrow Wilson Bridge to where Miss Leefolt and all her white friends live, in a neighborhood call Belhaven. Right next to Belhaven be the downtown and the state capital. Capitol building is real big, pretty on the outside but I never been in it. I wonder what they pay to clean that place.
Down the road from Belhaven is white Woodland Hills, then Sherwood Forest, which is miles a big live oaks with the moss hanging down. Nobody living in it yet, but it’s there for when the white folks is ready to move somewhere else new. Then it’s the country, out where Miss Skeeter live on the Longleaf cotton plantation. She don’t know it, but I picked cotton out there in 1931, during the Depression, when we didn’t have nothing to eat but state cheese.
“I have to run,” Miss Skeeter says. “See you tomorrow, Elizabeth.” She open the back door, say, “Thanks, Aibileen, for lunch,” and she gone.
I go in the dining room,fake uggs for sale, start clearing the bridge table. And just like I knew she would, Miss Leefolt come in behind me wearing her upset smile. Her neck’s sticking out like she fixing to ask me something. She don’t like me talking to her friends when she ain’t around, never has,Moncler Outlet. Always wanting to know what we saying. I go right on past her into the kitchen. I put Baby Girl in her high chair and start cleaning the oven.
Miss Leefolt follow me in there, eyeball a bucket a Crisco, put it down. Baby Girl hold her arms out for her mama to pick her up, but Miss Leefolt open a cabinet,Moncler outlet online store, act like she don’t see. Then she slam it close, open another one. Finally she just stand there. I’m down on my hands and knees. Pretty soon my head’s so far in that oven I look like I’m trying to gas myself.
“You and Miss Skeeter looked like you were talking awful serious about something.”
“No ma’am, she just... asking do I want some old clothes,” I say and it sound like I’m down in a well-hole. Grease already working itself up my arms. Smell like a underarm in here. Don’t take no time fore sweat’s running down my nose and ever time I scratch at it, I get a plug a crud on my face. Got to be the worst place in the world, inside a oven. You in here, you either cleaning or you getting cooked. Tonight I just know I’m on have that dream I’m stuck inside and the gas gets turned on. But I keep my head in that awful place cause I’d rather be anywhere sides answering Miss Leefolt’s questions about what Miss Skeeter was trying to say to me. Asking do I want to change things.
After while, Miss Leefolt huff and go out to the carport. I figure she looking at where she gone build me my new colored bathroom.
Chapter 2
YOU’D NEVER KNOW IT living here, but Jackson, Mississippi, be filled with two hundred thousand peoples. I see them numbers in the paper and I got to wonder, where do them peoples live? Underground,shox torch 2? Cause I know just about everbody on my side a the bridge and plenty a white families too, and that sure don’t add up to be no two hundred thousand.
Six days a week, I take the bus across the Woodrow Wilson Bridge to where Miss Leefolt and all her white friends live, in a neighborhood call Belhaven. Right next to Belhaven be the downtown and the state capital. Capitol building is real big, pretty on the outside but I never been in it. I wonder what they pay to clean that place.
Down the road from Belhaven is white Woodland Hills, then Sherwood Forest, which is miles a big live oaks with the moss hanging down. Nobody living in it yet, but it’s there for when the white folks is ready to move somewhere else new. Then it’s the country, out where Miss Skeeter live on the Longleaf cotton plantation. She don’t know it, but I picked cotton out there in 1931, during the Depression, when we didn’t have nothing to eat but state cheese.
The part of himself that he’d thought he’d exorcised turned out to have been only lying in the sha
The part of himself that he’d thought he’d exorcised turned out to have been only lying in the shallow grave where old personalities went to be discarded. With the sherry lighting his way, Daniel could see that now. He could feel anger building like steam.
The new Daniel, the father Daniel, had answered the detective’s questions and trusted the police to do what they were supposed to, because that was the best way to ensure the safety of his child.
But the old Daniel... well, he never would have trusted anyone else to complete a job that rightfully belonged to him. He would have fought back in revenge, kicking and screaming. In fact, he often had.
Daniel stood up and shrugged on his jacket just as Laura walked into the kitchen. She took one look at the bottle of sherry on the table,replica montblanc pens, and then at him. “You don’t drink.” Daniel stared at her. “Didn’t,” he corrected. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer her. He didn’t owe her an explanation. He didn’t owe anyone anything. This was not about payment, it was about payback.
Daniel opened the door and hurried out to his truck,fake uggs for sale. Jason Underhill would be at the town rink, right now, getting dressed for the Saturday afternoon game.
Because Trixie asked, Laura waited for her to fall asleep. She came downstairs in time to see Daniel leave, and he didn’t have to tell her where he was headed. Even worse, Laura wasn’t sure she would have stopped him.
Biblical justice was antiquated, or so she had been taught. You couldn’t hack off the hand of a thief; you couldn’t stone a murderer to death. A more advanced society took care of its justice in a courtroom - something Laura had advocated until about five hours ago. A trial might be more civilized, but emotionally, it couldn’t possibly pack as much satisfaction.
She tried to imagine what Daniel might do if he found Jason, but she couldn’t. It had been so long since Daniel had been anything but quiet and mild-mannered that she had completely forgotten the shadow that had once clung to him, so dark and unpredictable that she’d had to come closer for a second glance. Laura felt the same way she had last Christmas when she’d hung one of Trixie’s baby shoes on the tree as an ornament: wistful, aware that her daughter had once been tiny enough to fit into this slipper but unable to hold that picture in her head along with the one in front of her eyes - a teenage Trixie dancing around the balsam in her bare feet, stringing white lights in her wake. She tried to sit down with a book, but she reread the same page four times. She turned on the television but could not find the humor in any canned jokes.
A moment later, she found herself at the computer, Googling the word rape.
There were 10,LINK,900,000 hits, and immediately that made Laura feel better. Strength in numbers: She was not the only mother who’d felt this way; Trixie was not the only victim. The Web sites rooted this godawful word, and all the suffocating aftershocks that hung from it like Spanish moss.
She started clicking: One out of every six American women has been the victim of an attempted or a completed rape in her lifetime,Replica Designer Handbags, adding up to 17.7 million people.
The new Daniel, the father Daniel, had answered the detective’s questions and trusted the police to do what they were supposed to, because that was the best way to ensure the safety of his child.
But the old Daniel... well, he never would have trusted anyone else to complete a job that rightfully belonged to him. He would have fought back in revenge, kicking and screaming. In fact, he often had.
Daniel stood up and shrugged on his jacket just as Laura walked into the kitchen. She took one look at the bottle of sherry on the table,replica montblanc pens, and then at him. “You don’t drink.” Daniel stared at her. “Didn’t,” he corrected. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer her. He didn’t owe her an explanation. He didn’t owe anyone anything. This was not about payment, it was about payback.
Daniel opened the door and hurried out to his truck,fake uggs for sale. Jason Underhill would be at the town rink, right now, getting dressed for the Saturday afternoon game.
Because Trixie asked, Laura waited for her to fall asleep. She came downstairs in time to see Daniel leave, and he didn’t have to tell her where he was headed. Even worse, Laura wasn’t sure she would have stopped him.
Biblical justice was antiquated, or so she had been taught. You couldn’t hack off the hand of a thief; you couldn’t stone a murderer to death. A more advanced society took care of its justice in a courtroom - something Laura had advocated until about five hours ago. A trial might be more civilized, but emotionally, it couldn’t possibly pack as much satisfaction.
She tried to imagine what Daniel might do if he found Jason, but she couldn’t. It had been so long since Daniel had been anything but quiet and mild-mannered that she had completely forgotten the shadow that had once clung to him, so dark and unpredictable that she’d had to come closer for a second glance. Laura felt the same way she had last Christmas when she’d hung one of Trixie’s baby shoes on the tree as an ornament: wistful, aware that her daughter had once been tiny enough to fit into this slipper but unable to hold that picture in her head along with the one in front of her eyes - a teenage Trixie dancing around the balsam in her bare feet, stringing white lights in her wake. She tried to sit down with a book, but she reread the same page four times. She turned on the television but could not find the humor in any canned jokes.
A moment later, she found herself at the computer, Googling the word rape.
There were 10,LINK,900,000 hits, and immediately that made Laura feel better. Strength in numbers: She was not the only mother who’d felt this way; Trixie was not the only victim. The Web sites rooted this godawful word, and all the suffocating aftershocks that hung from it like Spanish moss.
She started clicking: One out of every six American women has been the victim of an attempted or a completed rape in her lifetime,Replica Designer Handbags, adding up to 17.7 million people.
2012年12月4日星期二
As soon as Jean discovered where his regiment lay he went in quest of Lieutenant Rochas to make his
As soon as Jean discovered where his regiment lay he went in quest of Lieutenant Rochas to make his report. He found him, together with Captain Beaudoin, in earnest consultation with the colonel at the door of a small inn, all of them anxiously waiting to see what tidings roll-call would give them as to the whereabouts of their missing men. The moment the corporal opened his mouth to address the lieutenant, Colonel Vineuil, who heard what the subject was, called him up and compelled him to tell the whole story. On his long, yellow face, where the intensely black eyes looked blacker still contrasted with the thick snow-white hair and the long, drooping mustache, there was an expression of patient, silent sorrow, and as the narrative proceeded, how the miserable wretches deserted their colors, threw away arms and knapsacks, and wandered off like vagabonds, grief and shame traced two new furrows on his blanched cheeks.
"Colonel," exclaimed Captain Beaudoin, in his incisive voice, not waiting for his superior to give an opinion, "it will best to shoot half a dozen of those wretches."
And the lieutenant nodded his head approvingly. But the colonel's despondent look expressed his powerlessness.
"There are too many of them. Nearly seven hundred! how are we to go to work, whom are we to select? And then you don't know it, but the general is opposed. He wants to be a father to his men, says he never punished a soldier all the time he was in Africa. No, no; we shall have to overlook it. I can do nothing. It is dreadful."
The captain echoed: "Yes,nike foamposites, it is dreadful. It means destruction for us all."
Jean was walking off, having said all he had to say, when he heard Major Bouroche, whom he had not seen where he was standing in the doorway of the inn, growl in a smothered voice: "No more punishment, an end to discipline, the army gone to the dogs! Before a week is over the scoundrels will be ripe for kicking their officers out of camp, while if a few of them had been made an example of on the spot it might have brought the remainder to their senses."
No one was punished. Some officers of the rear-guard that was protecting the trains had been thoughtful enough to collect the muskets and knapsacks scattered along the road. They were almost all recovered, and by daybreak the men were equipped again, the operation being conducted very quietly, as if to hush the matter up as much as possible. Orders were given to break camp at five o'clock, but reveille sounded at four and the retreat to Belfort was hurriedly continued, for everyone was certain that the Prussians were only two or three leagues away. Again there was nothing to eat but dry biscuit, and as a consequence of their brief, disturbed rest and the lack of something to warm their stomachs the men were weak as cats. Any attempt to enforce discipline on the march that morning was again rendered nugatory by the manner of their departure.
The day was worse than its predecessor, inexpressibly gloomy and disheartening. The aspect of the landscape had changed, they were now in a rolling country where the roads they were always alternately climbing and descending were bordered with woods of pine and hemlock, while the narrow gorges were golden with tangled thickets of broom. But panic and terror lay heavy on the fair land that slumbered there beneath the bright sun of August, and had been hourly gathering strength since the preceeding day. A fresh dispatch,link, bidding the mayors of communes warn the people that they would do well to hide their valuables, had excited universal consternation,Replica Designer Handbags. The enemy was at hand, then! Would time be given them to make their escape? And to all it seemed that the roar of invasion was ringing in their ears,nike shox torch ii, coming nearer and nearer, the roar of the rushing torrent that, starting from Mulhausen, had grown louder and more ominous as it advanced, and to which every village that it encountered in its course contributed its own alarm amid the sound of wailing and lamentation.
She was watching him
"Go on." She was watching him, rapt.
"But as if the place were, were a woman you had found somewhere out there, a dark woman tattooed from head to toes. And somehow you had got separated from the garrison and found yourself unable to get back, so that you had to be with her, close to her, day in and day out . . ."
"And you would be in love with her."
"At first. But soon that skin, the gaudy godawful riot of pattern and color, would begin to get between you and whatever it was in her that you thought you loved. And soon, in perhaps only a matter of days, it would get so bad that you would begin praying to whatever god you knew of to send some leprosy to her,Replica Designer Handbags. To flay that tattooing to a heap of red, purple and green debris,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, leave the veins and ligaments raw and quivering and open at last to your eyes and your touch. I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at her. The wind blew rain over the wall. "Fifteen years. It was directly after we'd entered Khartoum. I'd seen some beastliness in my Oriental campaigning, but nothing to match that. We were to relieve General Gordon - oh you were, I suppose, a chit of a girl then, but you've read about it, surely. What the Mahdi had done to that city. To General Gordon, to his men. I was having trouble with fever then and no doubt it was seeing all the carrion and the waste on top of that. I wanted to get away, suddenly; it was as if a world of neat hollow squares and snappy counter-marching had deteriorated into rout or mindlessness. I'd always had friends on the staffs at Cairo, Bombay, Singapore. And in two weeks this surveying business came up, and I was in. I was always weaseling in you know, on some show where you wouldn't expect to find naval personnel,homepage. This time it was escorting a crew of civilian engineers into some of the worst country on earth. Oh, wild, romantic. Contour lines and fathom-markings, cross-hatchings and colors where before there were only blank spaces on the map. All for the Empire. This sort of thing might have been lurking at the back of my head. But then I only knew I wanted to get away. All very good to be crying St. George and no quarter about the Orient, but then the Mahdist army had been gibbering the same thing, really, in Arabic, and had certainly meant it at Khartoum."
Mercifully, he did not catch sight of her comb.
"Did you get maps of Vheissu?"
He hesitated. "No," he said. "No data ever got back, either to F.O. or to the Geographic Society,moncler jackets men. Only a report of failure. Bear in mind: It was bad country. Thirteen of us went in and three came out. Myself, my second-in-command, and a civilian whose name I have forgotten and who so far as I know has vanished from the earth without a trace."
"And your second-in-command?"
"He is, he is in hospital. Retired now." There was a silence. "There was never a second expedition," old Godolphin went on. "Political reasons, who could say? No one cared. I got out of it scotfree. Not my fault, they told me. I even received a personal commendation from the Queen, though it was all hushed up."
"But as if the place were, were a woman you had found somewhere out there, a dark woman tattooed from head to toes. And somehow you had got separated from the garrison and found yourself unable to get back, so that you had to be with her, close to her, day in and day out . . ."
"And you would be in love with her."
"At first. But soon that skin, the gaudy godawful riot of pattern and color, would begin to get between you and whatever it was in her that you thought you loved. And soon, in perhaps only a matter of days, it would get so bad that you would begin praying to whatever god you knew of to send some leprosy to her,Replica Designer Handbags. To flay that tattooing to a heap of red, purple and green debris,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, leave the veins and ligaments raw and quivering and open at last to your eyes and your touch. I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at her. The wind blew rain over the wall. "Fifteen years. It was directly after we'd entered Khartoum. I'd seen some beastliness in my Oriental campaigning, but nothing to match that. We were to relieve General Gordon - oh you were, I suppose, a chit of a girl then, but you've read about it, surely. What the Mahdi had done to that city. To General Gordon, to his men. I was having trouble with fever then and no doubt it was seeing all the carrion and the waste on top of that. I wanted to get away, suddenly; it was as if a world of neat hollow squares and snappy counter-marching had deteriorated into rout or mindlessness. I'd always had friends on the staffs at Cairo, Bombay, Singapore. And in two weeks this surveying business came up, and I was in. I was always weaseling in you know, on some show where you wouldn't expect to find naval personnel,homepage. This time it was escorting a crew of civilian engineers into some of the worst country on earth. Oh, wild, romantic. Contour lines and fathom-markings, cross-hatchings and colors where before there were only blank spaces on the map. All for the Empire. This sort of thing might have been lurking at the back of my head. But then I only knew I wanted to get away. All very good to be crying St. George and no quarter about the Orient, but then the Mahdist army had been gibbering the same thing, really, in Arabic, and had certainly meant it at Khartoum."
Mercifully, he did not catch sight of her comb.
"Did you get maps of Vheissu?"
He hesitated. "No," he said. "No data ever got back, either to F.O. or to the Geographic Society,moncler jackets men. Only a report of failure. Bear in mind: It was bad country. Thirteen of us went in and three came out. Myself, my second-in-command, and a civilian whose name I have forgotten and who so far as I know has vanished from the earth without a trace."
"And your second-in-command?"
"He is, he is in hospital. Retired now." There was a silence. "There was never a second expedition," old Godolphin went on. "Political reasons, who could say? No one cared. I got out of it scotfree. Not my fault, they told me. I even received a personal commendation from the Queen, though it was all hushed up."
2012年12月2日星期日
She would not be bidden into her own room
She would not be bidden into her own room; she dreaded inaction and solitude. She made herself busy with carrying heavy baskets of turf,Replica Designer Handbags, and straining her strength to the utmost; fetching all that was wanted, with soft swift steps.
Once, as she passed near the open study door, she thought that she heard a rustling,moncler jackets men, and a flash of hope came across her. Could he be reviving? She entered, but a moment was enough to undeceive her; it had only been a night rustle among the trees. Of hope, life, there was none.
They dug the hole deep and well; working with fierce energy to quench thought and remorse. Once or twice her father asked for brandy, which Ellinor, reassured by the apparently good effect of the first dose, brought to him without a word; and once at her father's suggestion she brought food, such as she could find in the dining-room without disturbing the household, for Dixon.
When all was ready for the reception of the body in its unblessed grave, Mr. Wilkins bade Ellinor go up to her own room--she had done all she could to help them; the rest must be done by them alone. She felt that it must; and indeed both her nerves and her bodily strength were giving way. She would have kissed her father, as he sat wearily at the head of the grave--Dixon had gone in to make some arrangement for carrying the corpse--but he pushed her away quietly, but resolutely--
"No, Nelly, you must never kiss me again; I am a murderer."
"But I will, my own darling papa," said she, throwing her arms passionately round his neck, and covering his face with kisses. "I love you, and I don't care what you are, if you were twenty times a murderer, which you are not; I am sure it was only an accident."
"Go in, my child, go in, and try to get some rest. But go in, for we must finish as fast as we can. The moon is down; it will soon be daylight. What a blessing there are no rooms on one side of the house. Go, Nelly." And she went; straining herself up to move noiselessly, with eyes averted, through the room which she shuddered at as the place of hasty and unhallowed death.
Once in her own room she bolted the door on the inside,replica montblanc pens, and then stole to the window, as if some fascination impelled her to watch all the proceedings to the end. But her aching eyes could hardly penetrate through the thick darkness, which, at the time of the year of which I am speaking, so closely precedes the dawn,fake uggs for sale. She could discern the tops of the trees against the sky, and could single out the well-known one, at a little distance from the stem of which the grave was made, in the very piece of turf over which so lately she and Ralph had had their merry little tea-making; and where her father, as she now remembered, had shuddered and shivered, as if the ground on which his seat had then been placed was fateful and ominous to him.
Those below moved softly and quietly in all they did; but every sound had a significant and terrible interpretation to Ellinor's ears. Before they had ended, the little birds had begun to pipe out their gay _reveillee_ to the dawn. Then doors closed, and all was profoundly still.
Rachel Owlglass had owned
Rachel Owlglass had owned, back in '54, this MG. Her Daddy's gift. After giving it its shakedown cruise in the region around Grand Central (where Daddy's office was), familiarizing it with telephone poles, fire hydrants and occasional pedestrians, she brought the car up to the Catskills for the summer. Here, little, sulky and voluptuous, Rachel would gee and haw this MG around Route 17's bloodthirsty curves and cutbacks, sashaying its arrogant butt past hay wagons, growling semis, old Ford roadsters filled to capacity with crewcut, undergraduate gnomes.
Profane was just out of the Navy and working that summer as assistant salad man at Schlozhauer's Trocadero, nine miles outside Liberty, New York. His chief was one Da Conho, a mad Brazilian who wanted to go fight Arabs in Israel. One night near the opening of the season a drunken Marine had showed up in the Fiesta Lounge or bar of the Trocadero, carrying a .30-caliber machine gun in his AWOL bag. He wasn't too sure how he had come by the weapon exactly: Da Conho preferred to think it had been smuggled out of Parris Island piece by piece, which was how the Haganah would do it. After a deal of arguing with the bartender, who also wanted the gun, Da Conho finally triumphed, swapping for it three artichokes and an eggplant. To the mezuzah nailed up over the vegetable reefer and the Zionist banner hanging in back of the salad table Da Conho added this prize. During the weeks that followed, when the head chef was looking the other way, Da Conho would assemble his machine gun, camouflage it with iceberg lettuce, watercress and Belgian endive, and mock-strafe the guests assembled in the dining room. "Yibble,nike shox torch 2, yibble, yibble," he would go, squinting malevolent along the sights,replica gucci wallets, "got you dead center, Abdul Sayid. Yibble, yibble, Muslim pig." Da Conho's machine gun was the only one in the world that went yibble, yibble. He would sit up past four in the morning cleaning it,Discount UGG Boots, dreaming of lunar-looking deserts, the sizzle of Chang music, Yemenite girls whose delicate heads were covered with white kerchiefs, whose loins ached with love. He wondered how American Jews could sit vainglorious in that dining room meal after meal while only halfway round the world the desert shifted relentless over corpses of their own. How could he tell soulless stomachs? Harangue with oil and vinegar, supplicate with heart of palm. The only nice he had was the machine gun's. Could they hear that, can stomachs listen: no. And you never hear the one that gets you,Fake Designer Handbags. Aimed perhaps at any alimentary canal in a Hart Schaffner & Marx suit which vented lewd gurgles at the waitresses who passed, that gun was an object only, pointing where any suitable unbalance force might direct it: but which belt buckle was Da Conho taking a lead on: Abdul Sayid, the alimentary canal, himself? Why ask. He knew no more than that he was a Zionist, suffered, was confused, was daft to stand rooted sock-top deep in the loam of any kibbutz, a hemisphere away.
Profane had wondered then what it was with Da Conho and that machine gun. Love for an object, this was new to him. When he found out not long after this that the same thing was with Rachel and her MG, he had his first intelligence that something had been going on under the rose, maybe for longer and with more people than he would care to think about.
Profane was just out of the Navy and working that summer as assistant salad man at Schlozhauer's Trocadero, nine miles outside Liberty, New York. His chief was one Da Conho, a mad Brazilian who wanted to go fight Arabs in Israel. One night near the opening of the season a drunken Marine had showed up in the Fiesta Lounge or bar of the Trocadero, carrying a .30-caliber machine gun in his AWOL bag. He wasn't too sure how he had come by the weapon exactly: Da Conho preferred to think it had been smuggled out of Parris Island piece by piece, which was how the Haganah would do it. After a deal of arguing with the bartender, who also wanted the gun, Da Conho finally triumphed, swapping for it three artichokes and an eggplant. To the mezuzah nailed up over the vegetable reefer and the Zionist banner hanging in back of the salad table Da Conho added this prize. During the weeks that followed, when the head chef was looking the other way, Da Conho would assemble his machine gun, camouflage it with iceberg lettuce, watercress and Belgian endive, and mock-strafe the guests assembled in the dining room. "Yibble,nike shox torch 2, yibble, yibble," he would go, squinting malevolent along the sights,replica gucci wallets, "got you dead center, Abdul Sayid. Yibble, yibble, Muslim pig." Da Conho's machine gun was the only one in the world that went yibble, yibble. He would sit up past four in the morning cleaning it,Discount UGG Boots, dreaming of lunar-looking deserts, the sizzle of Chang music, Yemenite girls whose delicate heads were covered with white kerchiefs, whose loins ached with love. He wondered how American Jews could sit vainglorious in that dining room meal after meal while only halfway round the world the desert shifted relentless over corpses of their own. How could he tell soulless stomachs? Harangue with oil and vinegar, supplicate with heart of palm. The only nice he had was the machine gun's. Could they hear that, can stomachs listen: no. And you never hear the one that gets you,Fake Designer Handbags. Aimed perhaps at any alimentary canal in a Hart Schaffner & Marx suit which vented lewd gurgles at the waitresses who passed, that gun was an object only, pointing where any suitable unbalance force might direct it: but which belt buckle was Da Conho taking a lead on: Abdul Sayid, the alimentary canal, himself? Why ask. He knew no more than that he was a Zionist, suffered, was confused, was daft to stand rooted sock-top deep in the loam of any kibbutz, a hemisphere away.
Profane had wondered then what it was with Da Conho and that machine gun. Love for an object, this was new to him. When he found out not long after this that the same thing was with Rachel and her MG, he had his first intelligence that something had been going on under the rose, maybe for longer and with more people than he would care to think about.
2012年11月27日星期二
And there are other voices which come from still farther away
"And there are other voices which come from still farther away, from the elms of the garden of Monseigneur, and from this horizon of branches, the smallest of which interests itself in me, and wishes for me to be victorious.
"Then, again, this great, sovereign voice,Replica Designer Handbags, it is that of my old friend, the Cathedral, who, eternally awake, both day and night, has taught me many important things. Each one of the stones in the immense building, the little columns in the windows, the bell-towers of its piers, the flying buttresses of its apse, all have a murmur which I can distinguish, a language which I understand. Listen to what they say: that hope remains even in death. When one is really humble, love alone remains and triumphs. And at last, look! The air itself is filled with the whisperings of spirits. See, here are my invisible companions, the virgins, who are ever near me and aid me. Listen, listen!"
Smiling, she had lifted up her hand with an air of the deepest attention, and her whole being was in ecstasy from the scattered breathings she heard. They were the virgins of the "Golden Legend" that her imagination called forth, as in her early childhood, and whose mystic flight came from the old book with its quaint pictures, that was placed on the little table. Agnes was first, clothed with her beautiful hair, having on her finger the ring of betrothal to the Priest Paulin. Then all the others came in turn. Barbara with her tower; Genevieve with her sheep; Cecilia with her viol; Agatha with her wounded breast,fake uggs; Elizabeth begging on the highways, and Catherine triumphing over the learned doctors. She did not forget the miracle that made Lucy so heavy that a thousand men and five yoke of oxen could not carry her away: nor the Governor who became blind as he tried to embrace Anastasia. Then others who seemed flying through the quiet night, still bearing marks of the wounds inflicted upon them by their cruel martyrdom, and from which rivers of milk were flowing instead of blood. Ah! to die from love like them, to die in the purity of youth at the first kiss of a beloved one!
Felicien had approached her.
"I am the one person who really lives, Angelique,Moncler Outlet, and you cannot give me up for mere fancies."
"Dreams!--fancies!" she murmured.
"Yes; for if in reality these visions seem to surround you, it is simply that you yourself have created them all. Come, dear; no longer put a part of your life into objects about you, and they will be quiet."
She gave way to a burst of enthusiastic feeling.
"Oh no,Moncler outlet online store! Let them speak. Let them call out louder still! They are my strength; they give me the courage to resist you. It is a manifestation of the Eternal Grace, and never has it overpowered me so energetically as now. If it is but a dream, a dream which I have placed in my surroundings, and which comes back to me at will, what of it? It saves me, it carries me away spotless in the midst of dangers. Listen yourself. Yield, and obey like me. I no longer have even a wish to follow you."
In spite of her weakness, she made a great effort and stood up, resolute and firm.
“Thanks
“Thanks, Mr,fake louis vuitton bags. Malcolm. Were you charged as an accessory in this crime?”
“The cops tried, but the DA knew they couldn’t indict me on Junie’s flaky confession, especially since she, whatcha-callit, recanted.”
“Thank you, Mr. Malcolm. Your witness,” Davis said with a smirk to Yuki.
Chapter 75
YUKI READ LEN’S NOTES to her, his suggested line of questioning exactly what she planned to ask, but what was underscored in her mind was how important Malcolm was to the defense. And how important it was that she nullify his testimony.
Yuki stood, walked toward the witness stand, saying, “Mr. Malcolm, are you here today of your own volition?”
“Not exactly. The long arm of the law reached out and grabbed me out of a nice little titty bar in Tijuana.”
“You have friends in Mexico, Mr. Malcolm?” Yuki asked over the laughter in the gallery. “Or was this a case of ‘you can run but you can’t hide’?”
“A little of both.” Malcolm shrugged, giving the jury a glimpse of his terrible, gappy smile.
“A few minutes ago you swore to tell the truth, isn’t that right?”
“I got nothing against the truth,” Malcolm said.
Yuki put her hands on the railing in front of the witness, asked, “How do you feel about the defendant? Ms. Moon.”
“Junie’s a sweet girl.”
“Let’s see if we can refine that answer, okay?”
Malcolm shrugged, said, “Refine away.”
Yuki allowed a smile to show the jury she was a good sport, then said, “If you and Junie Moon were both free to walk out of here, Mr. Malcolm, would you spend the night with her?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“And if she needed a kidney, would you give her one of yours?”
“I’ve got two, right?”
“Yes. Odds are you have two.”
“Sure. I’d give her a kidney.” Ricky Malcolm grinned expansively, conveying what a generous guy he was.
“During your three-year-long relationship with the defendant, did you share things with her? Enjoy doing things with her?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“And how do you feel about her now?”
“That’s a little personal, isn’t it?”
Davis called out, “Your Honor, is this the Dr. Phil show? There’s no relevance -”
“If the court would give me a moment to show relevance,” Yuki interrupted.
“Overruled, Ms. Davis. Proceed, Ms. Castellano.”
“Thanks, Your Honor,” Yuki said. “Mr. Malcolm, your feelings aren’t a secret, are they? Would you please roll up your right sleeve and show your arm to the jury.”
Malcolm hesitated until the judge asked him to do it. Then he exposed his arm to the jury,link.
Called a “full sleeve” by tat aficionados, a dense collection of tattoos ran up Ricky Malcolm’s pale skin from his wrist to his shoulder. Among the snakes and skulls was a red heart branded with the initials R.M. hanging from the hook of a feminized crescent moon.
“Mr,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots. Malcolm, could you tell us what the letters underneath that heart tattoo mean?”
“You mean T-M-T-Y-L-M-J-M?”
“That’s right, Mr. Malcolm.”
Malcolm sighed,fake uggs for sale. “It stands for ‘Tell me that you love me, Junie Moon.’ ”
“So, Mr. Malcolm, is it fair to say that you love the defendant?”
Malcolm was looking at Junie now, his face heavy, having lost its wiseass expression, Junie looking back at him with her huge slate-gray eyes.
“The cops tried, but the DA knew they couldn’t indict me on Junie’s flaky confession, especially since she, whatcha-callit, recanted.”
“Thank you, Mr. Malcolm. Your witness,” Davis said with a smirk to Yuki.
Chapter 75
YUKI READ LEN’S NOTES to her, his suggested line of questioning exactly what she planned to ask, but what was underscored in her mind was how important Malcolm was to the defense. And how important it was that she nullify his testimony.
Yuki stood, walked toward the witness stand, saying, “Mr. Malcolm, are you here today of your own volition?”
“Not exactly. The long arm of the law reached out and grabbed me out of a nice little titty bar in Tijuana.”
“You have friends in Mexico, Mr. Malcolm?” Yuki asked over the laughter in the gallery. “Or was this a case of ‘you can run but you can’t hide’?”
“A little of both.” Malcolm shrugged, giving the jury a glimpse of his terrible, gappy smile.
“A few minutes ago you swore to tell the truth, isn’t that right?”
“I got nothing against the truth,” Malcolm said.
Yuki put her hands on the railing in front of the witness, asked, “How do you feel about the defendant? Ms. Moon.”
“Junie’s a sweet girl.”
“Let’s see if we can refine that answer, okay?”
Malcolm shrugged, said, “Refine away.”
Yuki allowed a smile to show the jury she was a good sport, then said, “If you and Junie Moon were both free to walk out of here, Mr. Malcolm, would you spend the night with her?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“And if she needed a kidney, would you give her one of yours?”
“I’ve got two, right?”
“Yes. Odds are you have two.”
“Sure. I’d give her a kidney.” Ricky Malcolm grinned expansively, conveying what a generous guy he was.
“During your three-year-long relationship with the defendant, did you share things with her? Enjoy doing things with her?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“And how do you feel about her now?”
“That’s a little personal, isn’t it?”
Davis called out, “Your Honor, is this the Dr. Phil show? There’s no relevance -”
“If the court would give me a moment to show relevance,” Yuki interrupted.
“Overruled, Ms. Davis. Proceed, Ms. Castellano.”
“Thanks, Your Honor,” Yuki said. “Mr. Malcolm, your feelings aren’t a secret, are they? Would you please roll up your right sleeve and show your arm to the jury.”
Malcolm hesitated until the judge asked him to do it. Then he exposed his arm to the jury,link.
Called a “full sleeve” by tat aficionados, a dense collection of tattoos ran up Ricky Malcolm’s pale skin from his wrist to his shoulder. Among the snakes and skulls was a red heart branded with the initials R.M. hanging from the hook of a feminized crescent moon.
“Mr,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots. Malcolm, could you tell us what the letters underneath that heart tattoo mean?”
“You mean T-M-T-Y-L-M-J-M?”
“That’s right, Mr. Malcolm.”
Malcolm sighed,fake uggs for sale. “It stands for ‘Tell me that you love me, Junie Moon.’ ”
“So, Mr. Malcolm, is it fair to say that you love the defendant?”
Malcolm was looking at Junie now, his face heavy, having lost its wiseass expression, Junie looking back at him with her huge slate-gray eyes.
2012年11月25日星期日
It was thither that Mathieu wished to take his wife and the little ones that Sunday
It was thither that Mathieu wished to take his wife and the little ones that Sunday. But the distance was considerable, and some anxiety was felt respecting Rose's little legs. She was intrusted to Ambroise, who, although the youngest of the boys, was already energetic and determined. These two opened the march; then came Blaise and Denis, the twins, the parents bringing up the rear. Everything at first went remarkably well: they strolled on slowly in the gay sunshine,mont blanc pens. That beautiful winter afternoon was exquisitely pure and clear, and though it was very cold in the shade, all seemed golden and velvety in the stretches of bright light. There were a great many people out of doors--all the idle folks, clad in their Sunday best, whom the faintest sunshine draws in crowds to the promenades of Paris. Little Rose, feeling warm and gay, drew herself up as if to show the people that she was a big girl. She crossed the whole extent of the Champ de Mars without asking to be carried. And her three brothers strode along making the frozen pavement resound beneath their steps. Promenaders were ever turning round to watch them. In other cities of Europe the sight of a young married couple preceded by four children would have excited no comment, but here in Paris the spectacle was so unusual that remarks of astonishment, sarcasm, and even compassion were exchanged. Mathieu and Marianne divined, even if they did not actually hear, these comments, but they cared nothing for them. They bravely went their way, smiling at one another, and feeling convinced that the course they had taken in life was the right one, whatever other folks might think or say.
It was three o'clock when they turned their steps homeward; and Marianne, feeling rather tired,Moncler outlet online store, then took a little rest on a sofa in the drawing-room, where Zoe had previously lighted a good fire. The children, quieted by fatigue, were sitting round a little table, listening to a tale which Denis read from a story-book,replica montblanc pens, when a visitor was announced. This proved to be Constance, who, after driving out with Maurice, had thought of calling to inquire after Marianne, whom she saw only once or twice a week, although the little pavilion was merely separated by a garden from the large house on the quay.
"Oh! are you poorly, my dear?" she inquired as she entered the room and perceived Marianne on the sofa.
"Oh! dear, no," replied the other, "but I have been out walking for the last two hours and am now taking some rest."
Mathieu had brought an armchair forward for his wife's rich, vain cousin, who, whatever her real feelings, certainly strove to appear amiable. She apologized for not being able to call more frequently, and explained what a number of duties she had to discharge as mistress of her home,Designer Handbags. Meantime Maurice, clad in black velvet, hung round her petticoats, gazing from a distance at the other children, who one and all returned his scrutiny.
"Well, Maurice," exclaimed his mother, "don't you wish your little cousins good-day?"
He had to do as he was bidden and step towards them. But all five remained embarrassed. They seldom met, and had as yet had no opportunity to quarrel. The four little savages of Chantebled felt indeed almost out of their element in the presence of this young Parisian with bourgeois manners.
As the young Pakistani soldiers entered the marshy terrain of the Rann
... As the young Pakistani soldiers entered the marshy terrain of the Rann, a cold clammy perspiration broke out on their foreheads, and they were unnerved by the greeny sea-bed quality of the light; they recounted stories which frightened them even more, legends of terrible things which happened in this amphibious zone, of demonic sea-beasts with glowing eyes, of fish-women who lay with their fishy heads underwater, breathing, while their perfectly-formed and naked human lower halves lay on the shore, tempting the unwary into fatal sexual acts, because it is well known that nobody may love a fish-woman and live ... so that by the time they reached the border posts and went to war, they were a scared rabble of seventeen-year-old boys, and would certainly have been annihilated, except that the opposing Indians had been subjected to the green air of the Rann even longer than they; so in that sorcerers' world a crazy war was fought in which each side thought it saw apparitions of devils fighting alongside its foes; but in the end the Indian forces yielded; many of them collapsed in floods of tears and wept, Thank God, it's over; they told about the great blubbery things which slithered around the border posts at night, and the floating-in-air spirits of drowned men with seaweed wreaths and seashells in their navels. What the surrendering Indian soldiers said, within my cousin's hearing: 'Anyway, these border posts were unmanned; we just saw them empty and came inside.'
The mystery of the deserted border posts did not, at first, seem like a puzzle to the young Pakistani soldiers who were required to occupy them until new border guards were sent; my cousin Lieutenant Zafar found his bladder and bowels voiding themselves with hysterical frequency for the seven nights he spent occupying one of the posts with only five jawans for company. During nights filled with the shrieks of witches and the nameless slithery shufflings of the dark, the six youngsters were reduced to so abject a state that nobody laughed at my cousin any more, they were all too busy wetting their own pants. One of the jawans whispered in terror during the ghostly evil of their last-but-one night: 'Listen, boys, if I had to sit here for a living, I'd bloody well run away,UGG Clerance, too!'
In a state of utter jelly-like breakdown the soldiers sweated in the Rann; and then on the last night their worst fears came true, they saw an army of ghosts coming out of the darkness towards them; they were in the border post nearest the sea-shore, and in the greeny moonlight they could see the sails of ghost-ships, of phantom dhows; and the ghost-army approached,Fake Designer Handbags, relentlessly, despite the screams of the soldiers, spectres bearing moss-covered chests and strange shrouded litters piled high with unseen things; and when the ghost-army came in through the door, my cousin Zafar fell at their feet and began to gibber horribly.
The first phantom to enter the outpost had several missing teeth and a curved knife stuck in his belt,shox torch 2; when he saw the soldiers in the hut his eyes blazed with a vermilion fury. 'God's pity!' the ghost chieftain said, 'What are you mother-sleepers here for? Didn't you all get properly paid off?'
The mystery of the deserted border posts did not, at first, seem like a puzzle to the young Pakistani soldiers who were required to occupy them until new border guards were sent; my cousin Lieutenant Zafar found his bladder and bowels voiding themselves with hysterical frequency for the seven nights he spent occupying one of the posts with only five jawans for company. During nights filled with the shrieks of witches and the nameless slithery shufflings of the dark, the six youngsters were reduced to so abject a state that nobody laughed at my cousin any more, they were all too busy wetting their own pants. One of the jawans whispered in terror during the ghostly evil of their last-but-one night: 'Listen, boys, if I had to sit here for a living, I'd bloody well run away,UGG Clerance, too!'
In a state of utter jelly-like breakdown the soldiers sweated in the Rann; and then on the last night their worst fears came true, they saw an army of ghosts coming out of the darkness towards them; they were in the border post nearest the sea-shore, and in the greeny moonlight they could see the sails of ghost-ships, of phantom dhows; and the ghost-army approached,Fake Designer Handbags, relentlessly, despite the screams of the soldiers, spectres bearing moss-covered chests and strange shrouded litters piled high with unseen things; and when the ghost-army came in through the door, my cousin Zafar fell at their feet and began to gibber horribly.
The first phantom to enter the outpost had several missing teeth and a curved knife stuck in his belt,shox torch 2; when he saw the soldiers in the hut his eyes blazed with a vermilion fury. 'God's pity!' the ghost chieftain said, 'What are you mother-sleepers here for? Didn't you all get properly paid off?'
2012年11月22日星期四
Not even a demi-Tasso
"Not even a demi-Tasso," said Thacker.
Now, let's come to the point, Colonel Telfair. I've already invested some money in this as a flyer. That bunch of manuscripts cost me $4,000. My object was to try a number of them in the next issue-I believe you make up less than a month ahead--and see what effect it has on the circulation. I believe that by printing the best stuff we can get in the North, South, East, or West we can make the magazine go. You have there the letter from the owning company asking you to co-operate with me in the plan. Let's chuck out some of this slush that you've been publishing just because the writers are related to the Skoopdoodles of Skoopdoodle County. Are you with me?"
"As long as I continue to be the editor of The Rose," said Colonel Telfair, with dignity, "I shall be its editor. But I desire also to conform to the wishes of its owners if I can do so conscientiously."
"That's the talk," said Thacker, briskly. "Now, how much of this stuff I've brought can we get into the January number? We want to begin right away."
"There is yet space in the January number," said the editor, "for about eight thousand words, roughly estimated."
"Great!" said Thacker. "It isn't much, but it'll give the readers some change from goobers, governors, and Gettysburg. I'll leave the selection of the stuff I brought to fill the space to you, as it's all good. I've got to run back to New York, and I'll be down again in a couple of weeks."
Colonel Telfair slowly swung his eye-glasses by their broad, black ribbon.
"The space in the January number that I referred to," said he, measuredly, "has been held open purposely, pending a decision that I have not yet made. A short time ago a contribution was submitted to The Rose of Dixie that is one of the most remarkable literary efforts that has ever come under my observation. None but a master mind and talent could have produced it. It would just fill the space that I have reserved for its possible use."
Thacker looked anxious.
"What kind of stuff is it?" he asked. "Eight thousand words sounds suspicious. The oldest families must have been collaborating. Is there going to be another secession ?"
"The author of the article," continued the colonel, ignoring Thacker's allusions, "is a writer of some reputation. He has also distinguished himself in other ways. I do not feel at liberty to reveal to you his name--at least not until I have decided whether or not to accept his contribution."
"Well," said Thacker, nervously, "is it a continued story, or an account of the unveiling of the new town pump in Whitmire, South Carolina, or a revised list of General Lee's body-servants, or what?"
"You are disposed to be facetious," said Colonel Telfair, calmly. "The article is from the pen of a thinker, a philosopher, a lover of mankind, a student, and a rhetorician of high degree."
"It must have been written by a syndicate," said Thacker. "But, honestly, Colonel, you want to go slow. I don't know of any eight- thousand-word single doses of written matter that are read by anybody these days, except Supreme Court briefs and reports of murder trials. You haven't by any accident gotten hold of a copy of one of Daniel Webster's speeches, have you?"
Now, let's come to the point, Colonel Telfair. I've already invested some money in this as a flyer. That bunch of manuscripts cost me $4,000. My object was to try a number of them in the next issue-I believe you make up less than a month ahead--and see what effect it has on the circulation. I believe that by printing the best stuff we can get in the North, South, East, or West we can make the magazine go. You have there the letter from the owning company asking you to co-operate with me in the plan. Let's chuck out some of this slush that you've been publishing just because the writers are related to the Skoopdoodles of Skoopdoodle County. Are you with me?"
"As long as I continue to be the editor of The Rose," said Colonel Telfair, with dignity, "I shall be its editor. But I desire also to conform to the wishes of its owners if I can do so conscientiously."
"That's the talk," said Thacker, briskly. "Now, how much of this stuff I've brought can we get into the January number? We want to begin right away."
"There is yet space in the January number," said the editor, "for about eight thousand words, roughly estimated."
"Great!" said Thacker. "It isn't much, but it'll give the readers some change from goobers, governors, and Gettysburg. I'll leave the selection of the stuff I brought to fill the space to you, as it's all good. I've got to run back to New York, and I'll be down again in a couple of weeks."
Colonel Telfair slowly swung his eye-glasses by their broad, black ribbon.
"The space in the January number that I referred to," said he, measuredly, "has been held open purposely, pending a decision that I have not yet made. A short time ago a contribution was submitted to The Rose of Dixie that is one of the most remarkable literary efforts that has ever come under my observation. None but a master mind and talent could have produced it. It would just fill the space that I have reserved for its possible use."
Thacker looked anxious.
"What kind of stuff is it?" he asked. "Eight thousand words sounds suspicious. The oldest families must have been collaborating. Is there going to be another secession ?"
"The author of the article," continued the colonel, ignoring Thacker's allusions, "is a writer of some reputation. He has also distinguished himself in other ways. I do not feel at liberty to reveal to you his name--at least not until I have decided whether or not to accept his contribution."
"Well," said Thacker, nervously, "is it a continued story, or an account of the unveiling of the new town pump in Whitmire, South Carolina, or a revised list of General Lee's body-servants, or what?"
"You are disposed to be facetious," said Colonel Telfair, calmly. "The article is from the pen of a thinker, a philosopher, a lover of mankind, a student, and a rhetorician of high degree."
"It must have been written by a syndicate," said Thacker. "But, honestly, Colonel, you want to go slow. I don't know of any eight- thousand-word single doses of written matter that are read by anybody these days, except Supreme Court briefs and reports of murder trials. You haven't by any accident gotten hold of a copy of one of Daniel Webster's speeches, have you?"
These alternate exclamations
These alternate exclamations, and a suggestion of hostile intentions, borne out by the behavior of the insurgents, compelled Mlle. Michonneau to take her departure. She made some stipulations, speaking in a low voice in her hostess' ear, and then--"I shall go to Mme. Buneaud's," she said, with a threatening look.
"Go where you please, mademoiselle," said Mme. Vauquer, who regarded this choice of an opposition establishment as an atrocious insult. "Go and lodge with the Buneaud; the wine would give a cat the colic, and the food is cheap and nasty."
The boarders stood aside in two rows to let her pass; not a word was spoken. Poiret looked so wistfully after Mlle. Michonneau, and so artlessly revealed that he was in two minds whether to go or stay, that the boarders, in their joy at being quit of Mlle. Michonneau, burst out laughing at the sight of him.
"Hist!--st!--st! Poiret," shouted the painter. "Hallo! I say, Poiret, hallo!" The employe from the Museum began to sing:
"Partant pour la Syrie, Le jeune et beau Dunois . . ."
"Get along with you; you must be dying to go, trahit sua quemque voluptas!" said Bianchon.
"Every one to his taste--free rendering from Virgil," said the tutor.
Mlle. Michonneau made a movement as if to take Poiret's arm, with an appealing glance that he could not resist. The two went out together, the old maid leaning upon him, and there was a burst of applause, followed by peals of laughter.
"Bravo, Poiret!"
"Who would have thought it of old Poiret!"
"Apollo Poiret!"
"Mars Poiret!"
"Intrepid Poiret!"
A messenger came in at that moment with a letter for Mme. Vauquer, who read it through, and collapsed in her chair.
"The house might as well be burned down at once," cried she, "if there are to be any more of these thunderbolts! Young Taillefer died at three o'clock this afternoon. It serves me right for wishing well to those ladies at that poor man's expense. Mme. Couture and Victorine want me to send their things, because they are going to live with her father. M. Taillefer allows his daughter to keep old Mme. Couture as her lady companion. Four rooms to let! and five lodgers gone! . . ."
She sat up, and seemed about to burst into tears.
"Bad luck has come to lodge here, I think," she cried.
Once more there came a sound of wheels from the street outside.
"What! another windfall for somebody!" was Sylvie's comment.
But it was Goriot who came in, looking so radiant, so flushed with happiness, that he seemed to have grown young again.
"Goriot in a cab!" cried the boarders; "the world is coming to an end."
The good soul made straight for Eugene, who was standing wrapped in thought in a corner, and laid a hand on the young man's arm.
"Come," he said, with gladness in his eyes.
"Then you haven't heard the news?" said Eugene. "Vautrin was an escaped convict; they have just arrested him; and young Taillefer is dead."
"Very well, but what business is it of ours?" replied Father Goriot. "I am going to dine with my daughter in YOUR HOUSE, do you understand? She is expecting you. Come!"
"Go where you please, mademoiselle," said Mme. Vauquer, who regarded this choice of an opposition establishment as an atrocious insult. "Go and lodge with the Buneaud; the wine would give a cat the colic, and the food is cheap and nasty."
The boarders stood aside in two rows to let her pass; not a word was spoken. Poiret looked so wistfully after Mlle. Michonneau, and so artlessly revealed that he was in two minds whether to go or stay, that the boarders, in their joy at being quit of Mlle. Michonneau, burst out laughing at the sight of him.
"Hist!--st!--st! Poiret," shouted the painter. "Hallo! I say, Poiret, hallo!" The employe from the Museum began to sing:
"Partant pour la Syrie, Le jeune et beau Dunois . . ."
"Get along with you; you must be dying to go, trahit sua quemque voluptas!" said Bianchon.
"Every one to his taste--free rendering from Virgil," said the tutor.
Mlle. Michonneau made a movement as if to take Poiret's arm, with an appealing glance that he could not resist. The two went out together, the old maid leaning upon him, and there was a burst of applause, followed by peals of laughter.
"Bravo, Poiret!"
"Who would have thought it of old Poiret!"
"Apollo Poiret!"
"Mars Poiret!"
"Intrepid Poiret!"
A messenger came in at that moment with a letter for Mme. Vauquer, who read it through, and collapsed in her chair.
"The house might as well be burned down at once," cried she, "if there are to be any more of these thunderbolts! Young Taillefer died at three o'clock this afternoon. It serves me right for wishing well to those ladies at that poor man's expense. Mme. Couture and Victorine want me to send their things, because they are going to live with her father. M. Taillefer allows his daughter to keep old Mme. Couture as her lady companion. Four rooms to let! and five lodgers gone! . . ."
She sat up, and seemed about to burst into tears.
"Bad luck has come to lodge here, I think," she cried.
Once more there came a sound of wheels from the street outside.
"What! another windfall for somebody!" was Sylvie's comment.
But it was Goriot who came in, looking so radiant, so flushed with happiness, that he seemed to have grown young again.
"Goriot in a cab!" cried the boarders; "the world is coming to an end."
The good soul made straight for Eugene, who was standing wrapped in thought in a corner, and laid a hand on the young man's arm.
"Come," he said, with gladness in his eyes.
"Then you haven't heard the news?" said Eugene. "Vautrin was an escaped convict; they have just arrested him; and young Taillefer is dead."
"Very well, but what business is it of ours?" replied Father Goriot. "I am going to dine with my daughter in YOUR HOUSE, do you understand? She is expecting you. Come!"
2012年11月21日星期三
I bury myself in the next housekeeping article
I bury myself in the next housekeeping article, then the League newsletter. For the second week in a row, I leave out Hilly’s bathroom initiative. An hour later, I find myself staring off at the window. My copy of Let Us Now Praise Famous Men sits on the window ledge. I walk over and pick it up, afraid the light will fade the paper jacket, the black-and-white photo of the humble, impoverished family on the cover. The book is warm and heavy from the sun. I wonder if I’ll ever write anything worth anything at all. I turn when I hear Pascagoula’s knock on my door. That’s when the idea comes to me.
No. I couldn’t. That would be... crossing the line.
But the idea won’t go away.
Chapter 7
THE HEAT WAVE finally passes round the middle a October and we get ourselves a cool fifty degrees. In the mornings, that bathroom seat get cold out there, give me a little start when I set down. It’s just a little room they built inside the carport. Inside is a toilet and a little sink attached to the wall. A pull cord for the lightbulb. Paper have to set on the floor.
When I waited on Miss Caulier, her carport attach to the house so I didn’t have to go outside. Place before that had a maid quarters. Plus my own little bedroom for when I sit at night. This one I got to cross through the weather to get there.
On a Tuesday noon, I carry my lunch on out to the back steps, set down on the cool concrete. Miss Leefolt’s grass don’t grow good back here. A big magnolia tree shades most a the yard. I already know that’s the tree gone be Mae Mobley’s hideout. In about five years, to hide from Miss Leefolt.
After a while, Mae Mobley waddle out on the back step. She got half her hamburger patty in her hand. She smile up at me and say, “Good.”
“How come you not in there with your mama?” I ask, but I know why. She rather be setting out here with the help than in there watching her mama look anywhere but at her. She like one a them baby chickens that get confused and follow the ducks around instead.
Mae Mobley point at the bluebirds getting ready for winter, twittering in the little gray fountain. “Boo birds!” She point and drop her hamburger down on the step. Out a nowhere, that old bird dog Aubie they don’t never pay no mind to come up and gobble it down. I don’t take to dogs, but this one is just plain pitiful. I pet him on the head. I bet nobody petted that dog since Christmas.
When Mae Mobley see him, she squeal and grab at his tail. It whap her in the face a few times before she get holt. Poor thing, he whine and give her one a those pitiful people-dog looks, his head turned funny, his eyebrows up. I can almost hear him asking her to turn him loose. He ain’t the biting kind.
So she’ll let go, I say, “Mae Mobley, where your tail?”
Sho nuff, she let go and start looking at her rear. Her mouth’s popped open like she just can’t believe she done missed it all this time. She turning in wobbly circles trying to see it.
“You ain’t got no tail.” I laugh and catch her fore she fall off that step. Dog sniff around for more hamburger.
It always tickle me how these babies believe anything you tell em. Tate Forrest, one a my used-to-be babies long time ago, stop me on the way to the Jitney just last week, give me a big hug, so happy to see me. He a grown man now. I needed to get back to Miss Leefolt’s, but he start laughing and memoring how I’d do him when he was a boy. How the first time his foot fell asleep and he say it tickle, I told him that was just his foot snoring. And how I told him don’t drink coffee or he gone turn colored. He say he still ain’t drunk a cup a coffee and he twenty-one years old. It’s always nice seeing the kids grown up fine.
No. I couldn’t. That would be... crossing the line.
But the idea won’t go away.
Chapter 7
THE HEAT WAVE finally passes round the middle a October and we get ourselves a cool fifty degrees. In the mornings, that bathroom seat get cold out there, give me a little start when I set down. It’s just a little room they built inside the carport. Inside is a toilet and a little sink attached to the wall. A pull cord for the lightbulb. Paper have to set on the floor.
When I waited on Miss Caulier, her carport attach to the house so I didn’t have to go outside. Place before that had a maid quarters. Plus my own little bedroom for when I sit at night. This one I got to cross through the weather to get there.
On a Tuesday noon, I carry my lunch on out to the back steps, set down on the cool concrete. Miss Leefolt’s grass don’t grow good back here. A big magnolia tree shades most a the yard. I already know that’s the tree gone be Mae Mobley’s hideout. In about five years, to hide from Miss Leefolt.
After a while, Mae Mobley waddle out on the back step. She got half her hamburger patty in her hand. She smile up at me and say, “Good.”
“How come you not in there with your mama?” I ask, but I know why. She rather be setting out here with the help than in there watching her mama look anywhere but at her. She like one a them baby chickens that get confused and follow the ducks around instead.
Mae Mobley point at the bluebirds getting ready for winter, twittering in the little gray fountain. “Boo birds!” She point and drop her hamburger down on the step. Out a nowhere, that old bird dog Aubie they don’t never pay no mind to come up and gobble it down. I don’t take to dogs, but this one is just plain pitiful. I pet him on the head. I bet nobody petted that dog since Christmas.
When Mae Mobley see him, she squeal and grab at his tail. It whap her in the face a few times before she get holt. Poor thing, he whine and give her one a those pitiful people-dog looks, his head turned funny, his eyebrows up. I can almost hear him asking her to turn him loose. He ain’t the biting kind.
So she’ll let go, I say, “Mae Mobley, where your tail?”
Sho nuff, she let go and start looking at her rear. Her mouth’s popped open like she just can’t believe she done missed it all this time. She turning in wobbly circles trying to see it.
“You ain’t got no tail.” I laugh and catch her fore she fall off that step. Dog sniff around for more hamburger.
It always tickle me how these babies believe anything you tell em. Tate Forrest, one a my used-to-be babies long time ago, stop me on the way to the Jitney just last week, give me a big hug, so happy to see me. He a grown man now. I needed to get back to Miss Leefolt’s, but he start laughing and memoring how I’d do him when he was a boy. How the first time his foot fell asleep and he say it tickle, I told him that was just his foot snoring. And how I told him don’t drink coffee or he gone turn colored. He say he still ain’t drunk a cup a coffee and he twenty-one years old. It’s always nice seeing the kids grown up fine.
It was busy
"It was busy. Customers kept coming in until we closed, and I had a load of paperwork I had to get through. In fact, I just got home a little while ago." He started toward the front door, Theresa right beside him. "How about you? What did you end up doing the rest of the day?"
"I got to take a nap," she said as if teasing him, and he laughed.
"I forgot to ask you earlier, but do you want anything special for dinner?" he asked.
"What were you planning on?"
"I was thinking of cooking some steaks on the grill, but then I got to wondering if you ate things like that."
"Are you kidding? You forget I grew up in Nebraska. I love a good steak."
"Then you're in for a pleasant surprise."
"What?"
"I happen to make the best steaks in the world."
"Oh, you do, huh?"
"I'll prove it to you," he said, and she laughed, a melodic sound.
As they approached the door, Theresa looked at the house for the first time. It was relatively small-one story and rectangular shaped-with painted wooden siding that was peeling badly in more than one place. Unlike the homes on Wrightsville Beach, this home sat directly on the sand. When she asked him why it wasn't raised like the other houses, he explained that the house was built before the hurricane building codes went into effect. "Now the houses have to be elevated so that the tidal surge can pass under the main structure. The next big hurricane will probably wash this old house out to sea, but I've been fortunate so far."
"Don't you worry about that?"
"Not really. There's not much to the place, and that's the only reason I could afford it. I think the former owner finally got tired of all the stress every time a big storm started moving across the Atlantic."
They reached the cracked front steps and walked inside. The first thing Theresa noticed upon entering was the view from the main room. The windows extended from the floor to the ceiling and ran along the entire back side of the house, overlooking the back deck and Carolina Beach.
"This view is incredible," she said, surprised.
"It is,Designer Handbags, isn't it? I've been here for a few years now,UGG Clerance, but I still don't take it for granted."
Off to one side was a fireplace, surrounded by a dozen underwater photographs. She moved toward them. "Do you mind if I look around?"
"No, go ahead. I have to get the grill out back ready anyway. It needs a bit of cleaning."
Garrett left through the sliding glass door.
After he left,shox torch 2, Theresa looked at the pictures for a while, then toured the rest of the house. Like many beach houses she had seen, there wasn't room for more than one or two people to live here. There was only one bedroom, reached by a door off the living room. Like the main room,homepage, it also had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the beach. The front portion of the house-the side closest to the street-contained a kitchen, a small dining area (not quite a room), and the bathroom. Though everything was tidy, the house looked as though it hadn't been updated in years.
Returning to the main room, she stopped at his bedroom and glanced inside. Again she saw underwater photographs decorating the walls. In addition, there was a large map of the North Carolina coast that hung directly over his bed, documenting the location of almost five hundred shipwrecks. When she looked toward his nightstand, she saw a framed picture of a woman. Making sure that Garrett was still outside cleaning the grill, she stepped in to take a closer look.
"I got to take a nap," she said as if teasing him, and he laughed.
"I forgot to ask you earlier, but do you want anything special for dinner?" he asked.
"What were you planning on?"
"I was thinking of cooking some steaks on the grill, but then I got to wondering if you ate things like that."
"Are you kidding? You forget I grew up in Nebraska. I love a good steak."
"Then you're in for a pleasant surprise."
"What?"
"I happen to make the best steaks in the world."
"Oh, you do, huh?"
"I'll prove it to you," he said, and she laughed, a melodic sound.
As they approached the door, Theresa looked at the house for the first time. It was relatively small-one story and rectangular shaped-with painted wooden siding that was peeling badly in more than one place. Unlike the homes on Wrightsville Beach, this home sat directly on the sand. When she asked him why it wasn't raised like the other houses, he explained that the house was built before the hurricane building codes went into effect. "Now the houses have to be elevated so that the tidal surge can pass under the main structure. The next big hurricane will probably wash this old house out to sea, but I've been fortunate so far."
"Don't you worry about that?"
"Not really. There's not much to the place, and that's the only reason I could afford it. I think the former owner finally got tired of all the stress every time a big storm started moving across the Atlantic."
They reached the cracked front steps and walked inside. The first thing Theresa noticed upon entering was the view from the main room. The windows extended from the floor to the ceiling and ran along the entire back side of the house, overlooking the back deck and Carolina Beach.
"This view is incredible," she said, surprised.
"It is,Designer Handbags, isn't it? I've been here for a few years now,UGG Clerance, but I still don't take it for granted."
Off to one side was a fireplace, surrounded by a dozen underwater photographs. She moved toward them. "Do you mind if I look around?"
"No, go ahead. I have to get the grill out back ready anyway. It needs a bit of cleaning."
Garrett left through the sliding glass door.
After he left,shox torch 2, Theresa looked at the pictures for a while, then toured the rest of the house. Like many beach houses she had seen, there wasn't room for more than one or two people to live here. There was only one bedroom, reached by a door off the living room. Like the main room,homepage, it also had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the beach. The front portion of the house-the side closest to the street-contained a kitchen, a small dining area (not quite a room), and the bathroom. Though everything was tidy, the house looked as though it hadn't been updated in years.
Returning to the main room, she stopped at his bedroom and glanced inside. Again she saw underwater photographs decorating the walls. In addition, there was a large map of the North Carolina coast that hung directly over his bed, documenting the location of almost five hundred shipwrecks. When she looked toward his nightstand, she saw a framed picture of a woman. Making sure that Garrett was still outside cleaning the grill, she stepped in to take a closer look.
neither Constance nor Valentine was greatly touched by the sight of the waving wheat
True, neither Constance nor Valentine was greatly touched by the sight of the waving wheat, for other ambitions filled their minds: and Morange, though he stared with his vague dim eyes, did not even seem to see it. But Beauchene and Seguin marvelled, for they remembered their visit in the month of January, when the frozen ground had been wrapt in sleep and mystery. They had then guessed nothing, and now they were amazed at this miraculous awakening, this conquering fertility, which had changed a part of the marshy tableland into a field of living wealth. And Seguin, in particular, did not cease praising and admiring, certain as he now felt that he would be paid, and already hoping that Mathieu would soon take a further portion of the estate off his hands.
Then, as soon as they had walked to the old pavilion, now transformed into a little farm, and had seated themselves in the garden, pending dinner-time, the conversation fell upon children. Marianne, as it happened, had weaned Gervais the day before, and he was there among the ladies, still somewhat unsteady on his legs, and yet boldly going from one to the other, careless of his frequent falls on his back or his nose. He was a gay-spirited child who seldom lost his temper, doubtless because his health was so good. His big clear eyes were ever laughing; he offered his little hands in a friendly way, and was very white, very pink, and very sturdy--quite a little man indeed, though but fifteen and a half months old. Constance and Valentine admired him, while Marianne jested and turned him away each time that he greedily put out his little hands towards her.
"No,fake uggs, no, monsieur, it's over now. You will have nothing but soup in future."
"Weaning is such a terrible business," then remarked Constance. "Did he let you sleep last night?"
"Oh! yes, he had good habits, you know; he never troubled me at night. But this morning he was stupefied and began to cry. Still, you see, he is fairly well behaved already. Besides, I never had more trouble than this with the other ones."
Beauchene was standing there, listening, and, as usual, smoking a cigar,replica mont blanc pens. Constance appealed to him:
"You are lucky. But you, dear, remember--don't you?--what a life Maurice led us when his nurse went away. For three whole nights we were unable to sleep."
"But just look how your Maurice is playing!" exclaimed Beauchene. "Yet you'll be telling me again that he is ill."
"Oh! I no longer say that, my friend; he is quite well now. Besides, I was never anxious; I know that he is very strong."
A great game of hide-and-seek was going on in the garden, along the paths and even over the flower-beds, among the eight children who were assembled there. Besides the four of the house--Blaise, Denis,shox torch 2, Ambroise, and Rose--there were Gaston and Lucie, the two elder children of the Seguins, who had abstained, however, from bringing their other daughter--little Andree. Then, too, both Reine and Maurice were present. And the latter now, indeed, seemed to be all right upon his legs,UGG Clerance, though his square face with its heavy jaw still remained somewhat pale. His mother watched him running about, and felt so happy and so vain at the realization of her dream that she became quite amiable even towards these poor relatives the Froments, whose retirement into the country seemed to her like an incomprehensible downfall, which forever thrust them out of her social sphere.
Molly thought her labors were over for that night
Molly thought her labors were over for that night, and soon went tobed, tired with her first attempts. But toward morning she waswakened by the hoarse breathing of the boy, and was forced topatter away to Miss Bat's room, humbly asking for the squills, andconfessing that the prophecy had come to pass.
"I knew it! Bring the child to me, and don't fret. I'll see to him, andnext time you do as I say,mont blanc pens," was the consoling welcome shereceived as the old lady popped up a sleepy but anxious face in alarge flannel cap, and shook the bottle with the air of a generalwho had routed the foe before and meant to do it again.
Leaving her little responsibility in Miss Bat's arms, Molly tired towet her pillow with a few remorseful tears, and to fall asleep,wondering if real missionaries ever killed their pupils in theprocess of conversion.
So the girls all failed in the beginning; but they did not give up,and succeeded better next time, as we shall see.
Chapter 9
The Debating Club"Look here, old man, we ought to have a meeting. Holidays areover, and we must brace up and attend to business," said Frank toGus, as they strolled out of the schoolyard one afternoon inJanuary, apparently absorbed in conversation,Designer Handbags, but in reality waitingfor a blue cloud and a scarlet feather to appear on the steps.
"All right. When, where, and what?" asked Gus, who was a man offew words.
"To-night, our house, subject, 'Shall girls go to college with us?'
Mother said we had better be making up our minds, becauseeveryone is talking about it, and we shall have to be on one side orthe other, so we may as well settle it now," answered Frank, forthere was an impression among the members that all vexedquestions would be much helped by the united eloquence andwisdom of the club.
"Very good; I'll pass the word and be there. Hullo, Neddy! The D.
C. meets to-night, at Minot's, seven sharp. Co-ed, &c.," added Gus,losing no time, as a third boy came briskly round the corner, with alittle bag in his hand.
"I'll come,nike shox torch ii. Got home an hour earlier to-night, and thought I'd lookyou up as I went by," responded Ed Devlin, as he took possessionof the third post, with a glance toward the schoolhouse to see if aseal-skin cap, with a long, yellow braid depending therefrom, wasanywhere in sight.
"Very good of you, I'm sure," said Gus, ironically, not a bitdeceived by this polite attention.
"The longest way round is sometimes the shortest way home,fake montblanc pens, hey,Ed?" and Frank gave him a playful poke that nearly sent him offhis perch.
Then they all laughed at some joke of their own, and Gus added,"No girls coming to hear us to-night. Don't think it, my son.
"More's the pity," and Ed shook his head regretfully over thedownfall of his hopes.
"Can't help it; the other fellows say they spoil the fun, so we haveto give in, sometimes, for the sake of peace and quietness. Don'tmind having them a bit myself," said Frank, in such a tone ofcheerful resignation that they laughed again, for the "Triangle," asthe three chums were called, always made merry music.
"We must have a game party next week. The girls like that, and sodo I," candidly observed Gus, whose pleasant parlors were thescene of many such frolics.
"I knew it! Bring the child to me, and don't fret. I'll see to him, andnext time you do as I say,mont blanc pens," was the consoling welcome shereceived as the old lady popped up a sleepy but anxious face in alarge flannel cap, and shook the bottle with the air of a generalwho had routed the foe before and meant to do it again.
Leaving her little responsibility in Miss Bat's arms, Molly tired towet her pillow with a few remorseful tears, and to fall asleep,wondering if real missionaries ever killed their pupils in theprocess of conversion.
So the girls all failed in the beginning; but they did not give up,and succeeded better next time, as we shall see.
Chapter 9
The Debating Club"Look here, old man, we ought to have a meeting. Holidays areover, and we must brace up and attend to business," said Frank toGus, as they strolled out of the schoolyard one afternoon inJanuary, apparently absorbed in conversation,Designer Handbags, but in reality waitingfor a blue cloud and a scarlet feather to appear on the steps.
"All right. When, where, and what?" asked Gus, who was a man offew words.
"To-night, our house, subject, 'Shall girls go to college with us?'
Mother said we had better be making up our minds, becauseeveryone is talking about it, and we shall have to be on one side orthe other, so we may as well settle it now," answered Frank, forthere was an impression among the members that all vexedquestions would be much helped by the united eloquence andwisdom of the club.
"Very good; I'll pass the word and be there. Hullo, Neddy! The D.
C. meets to-night, at Minot's, seven sharp. Co-ed, &c.," added Gus,losing no time, as a third boy came briskly round the corner, with alittle bag in his hand.
"I'll come,nike shox torch ii. Got home an hour earlier to-night, and thought I'd lookyou up as I went by," responded Ed Devlin, as he took possessionof the third post, with a glance toward the schoolhouse to see if aseal-skin cap, with a long, yellow braid depending therefrom, wasanywhere in sight.
"Very good of you, I'm sure," said Gus, ironically, not a bitdeceived by this polite attention.
"The longest way round is sometimes the shortest way home,fake montblanc pens, hey,Ed?" and Frank gave him a playful poke that nearly sent him offhis perch.
Then they all laughed at some joke of their own, and Gus added,"No girls coming to hear us to-night. Don't think it, my son.
"More's the pity," and Ed shook his head regretfully over thedownfall of his hopes.
"Can't help it; the other fellows say they spoil the fun, so we haveto give in, sometimes, for the sake of peace and quietness. Don'tmind having them a bit myself," said Frank, in such a tone ofcheerful resignation that they laughed again, for the "Triangle," asthe three chums were called, always made merry music.
"We must have a game party next week. The girls like that, and sodo I," candidly observed Gus, whose pleasant parlors were thescene of many such frolics.
In your great big cunt
"In your great big cunt," he says, and pulls her down by the lapels of her rough robe. Out of deference to those around them in the house ? Ma Springer just a wall's thickness away, her television a dim rumble, the Korean War turned into a joke ? Janice tries to suppress her cries as he strips the terrycloth from her willing body and the coins on the bedspread come in contact with her skin. The cords of her throat tighten; her face darkens as she strains in the grip of indignation and glee. His underwear off, the overhead light still on, his prick up like a jutting piece of pink wreckage, he calms her into lying motionless and places a Krugerrand on each nipple, one on her navel, and a number on her pussy, enough to mask the hair with a triangle of unsteady coins overlapping like snake scales. If she laughs and her belly moves the whole construction will collapse. Kneeling at her hips, Harry holds a Krugerrand by the edge as if to insert it in a slot. "No!" Janice protests, loud enough to twitch Ma Springer awake through the wall, loud enough to jar loose the coins so some do spill between her legs. He hushes her mouth with his and then moves his mouth south, across the desert, oasis to oasis, until he comes to the ferny jungle, which his wife lays open to him with a humoring toss of her thighs. A kind of interest compounds as, seeing red, spilled gold pressing on his forehead, he hunts with his tongue for her clitoris. He finds what he thinks is the right rhythm but doesn't feel it take; he thinks the bright overhead light might be distracting her and risks losing his hard?on in hopping from the bed to switch it off over by the door. Turning then in the half?dark he sees she has turned also, gotten up onto her knees and elbows, a four?legged moonchild of his, her soft cleft ass held high to him in the gloom as her face peeks around one shoulder. He fucks her in this position gently, groaning in the effort of keeping his jism in, letting his thoughts fly far. The pennant race, the recent hike in the factory base price of Corollas. He fondles her underside's defenseless slack flesh, his own belly massive and bearing down,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots. Her back looks so breakable and brave and narrow ? the long dent of its spine, the cross?bar of pallor left by her bathing?suit bra. Behind him his bare feet release a faraway sad odor. Coins jingle, slithering in toward their knees, into the depressions their interlocked weights make in the mattress. He taps her ass and asks,homepage, "Want to turn over,fake uggs?"
"Uh?huh." As an afterthought: "Want me to sit on you first?"
"Uh,replica mont blanc pens?huh." As an afterthought: "Don't make me come."
Harry's skin is bitten as by ice when he lies on his back. The coins: worse than toast crumbs. So wet he feels almost nothing, Janice straddles him, vast and globular in the patchy light that filters from the streetlight through the big copper beech. She picks up a stray coin and places it glinting in her eye, as a monocle. Lording it over him, holding him captive, she grinds her wet halves around him; self to self, bivalve and tuber, this is what it comes to. "Don't come," she says, alarmed enough so that her mock?monocle drops to his tense abdomen with a thud. "Better get underneath," he grunts. Her body then seems thin and black, silhouetted by the scattered circles, reflecting according to their tilt. Gods bedded among stars, he gasps in her ear, then she in his.
2012年11月19日星期一
Trixie squeezed her eyes shut
Trixie squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the rustle of the straw as he moved closer and the itch of the grass on her bare skin as it caught between them. Willie’s hand touched her back, and she stiffened as he came up behind her, curling his knees into the hollow bowl made by the bend of her own. She took deep breaths. She tried not to remember the last boy she’d touched, the last boy who’d touched her.
The inferno began where his fingers rested on her shoulder and spread to every spot where their skin was touching. Pressed up against Willie, Trixie didn’t find herself thinking about Jason, or the night of the rape,fake montblanc pens. She didn’t feel threatened or even frightened. She simply felt, for the first time in hours, warm.
“Did you ever know someone who died?” she asked. “Someone our age?” It took Willie a moment, but he answered. “Yes.” The bitter wind beat against their tarp and made its loose tongue rattle like a gossip’s. Trixie unclenched her fists. “Me too,” she said.
Bethel was technically a city, but not by any normal standards.
The population was less than six thousand, although it was the closest hub for fifty-three native villages along the river.
Daniel turned to Laura. “We can get a taxi,” he said.
“There are taxis here?” “Most people don’t have cars. If you’ve got a boat and a snow-go, you’re pretty much set,nike shox torch ii.” The cab driver was a tiny Asian woman with a massive bun perched on her head like an avalanche waiting to happen. She wore fake Gucci sunglasses, although it was still dark outside, and was listening to Patsy Cline on the radio. “Where you go?” Daniel hesitated. “Just drive,” he said. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” The sun had finally broken over the horizon like the yolk of an egg. Daniel stared out the window at the landscape: pancake flat, windswept, opaque with ice. The rutted roads had houses pitted along them, ranging from tiny shacks to modest 1970s split-levels. On the side of one road sat a couch with the cushions missing and its overstuffed arms dusted with frost.
They drove past the neighborhoods of Lousetown and Alligator Acres, the Alaska Commercial Company store, the medical center where Yup’ik Eskimos received free treatment. They passed White Alice, a huge curved structure that resembled a drive-in movie screen but that actually was a radar system built during the Cold War. Daniel had broken into it a hundred times as a kid - climbed up through the pitch-black center to sit on top and get drunk on Windsor Whiskey.
“Okay,” he told the cab driver. “You can stop here.” The Long House Inn was covered with ravens. There were at least a dozen on the roof, and another group battled around the remains of a torn Hefty bag in the Dumpster off to the side,Fake Designer Handbags. Daniel paid the driver and stared at the renovated building. When he’d left, it was on the verge of being condemned.
There were three snow machines parked out front, something Daniel filed away in the recesses of his mind. He’d need one, after he figured out what direction to head to find Trixie. He could hotwire one of these, if he still remembered how, or take the honorable route and charge one to his MasterCard,mont blanc pens. They were sold in the Alaska Commercial store, at the end of the dairy aisle, past the $6.99 gallons of milk.
The inferno began where his fingers rested on her shoulder and spread to every spot where their skin was touching. Pressed up against Willie, Trixie didn’t find herself thinking about Jason, or the night of the rape,fake montblanc pens. She didn’t feel threatened or even frightened. She simply felt, for the first time in hours, warm.
“Did you ever know someone who died?” she asked. “Someone our age?” It took Willie a moment, but he answered. “Yes.” The bitter wind beat against their tarp and made its loose tongue rattle like a gossip’s. Trixie unclenched her fists. “Me too,” she said.
Bethel was technically a city, but not by any normal standards.
The population was less than six thousand, although it was the closest hub for fifty-three native villages along the river.
Daniel turned to Laura. “We can get a taxi,” he said.
“There are taxis here?” “Most people don’t have cars. If you’ve got a boat and a snow-go, you’re pretty much set,nike shox torch ii.” The cab driver was a tiny Asian woman with a massive bun perched on her head like an avalanche waiting to happen. She wore fake Gucci sunglasses, although it was still dark outside, and was listening to Patsy Cline on the radio. “Where you go?” Daniel hesitated. “Just drive,” he said. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” The sun had finally broken over the horizon like the yolk of an egg. Daniel stared out the window at the landscape: pancake flat, windswept, opaque with ice. The rutted roads had houses pitted along them, ranging from tiny shacks to modest 1970s split-levels. On the side of one road sat a couch with the cushions missing and its overstuffed arms dusted with frost.
They drove past the neighborhoods of Lousetown and Alligator Acres, the Alaska Commercial Company store, the medical center where Yup’ik Eskimos received free treatment. They passed White Alice, a huge curved structure that resembled a drive-in movie screen but that actually was a radar system built during the Cold War. Daniel had broken into it a hundred times as a kid - climbed up through the pitch-black center to sit on top and get drunk on Windsor Whiskey.
“Okay,” he told the cab driver. “You can stop here.” The Long House Inn was covered with ravens. There were at least a dozen on the roof, and another group battled around the remains of a torn Hefty bag in the Dumpster off to the side,Fake Designer Handbags. Daniel paid the driver and stared at the renovated building. When he’d left, it was on the verge of being condemned.
There were three snow machines parked out front, something Daniel filed away in the recesses of his mind. He’d need one, after he figured out what direction to head to find Trixie. He could hotwire one of these, if he still remembered how, or take the honorable route and charge one to his MasterCard,mont blanc pens. They were sold in the Alaska Commercial store, at the end of the dairy aisle, past the $6.99 gallons of milk.
Chapter 23 Peace-Making Steve
Chapter 23 Peace-Making
"Steve, I want you to tell me something," said Rose to Dandy, whowas making faces at himself in the glass, while he waited for ananswer to the note he brought from his mother to Aunt Plenty.
"P'raps I will, and p'raps I won't. What is it?""Haven't Arch and Charlie quarrelled?""Dare say; we fellows are always having little rows, you know. Ido believe a sty is coming on my star-board eye," and Steveaffected to be absorbed in a survey of his yellow lashes.
"No, that won't do; I want to know all about it; for I'm suresomething more serious than a 'little row' is the matter. Come,please tell me, Stenie, there's a dear.""Botheration! you don't want me to turn telltale, do you?" growledSteve, pulling his top-knot, as he always did when perplexed.
"Yes, I do," was Rose's decided answer for she saw from hismanner that she was right, and determined to have the secret out ofhim if coaxing would do it. "I don't wish you to tell things toeveryone, of course, but to me you may, and you must, because Ihave a right to know. You boys need somebody to look after you,and I'm going to do it, for girls are nice peacemakers, and knowhow to manage people,fake uggs boots. Uncle said so, and he is never wrong."Steve was about to indulge in a derisive hoot at the idea of herlooking after them, but a sudden thought restrained him, andsuggested a way in which he could satisfy Rose, and better himselfat the same time.
"What will you give me if I'll tell you every bit about it?" he asked,with a sudden red in his cheeks and an uneasy look in his eyes, forhe was half ashamed of the proposition.
"What do you want?" and Rose looked up rather surprised at hisquestion.
"I'd like to borrow some money. I shouldn't think of asking you,only Mac never has a cent. since he's set up his old chemical shop,where he'll blow himself to bits some day, and you and uncle willhave the fun of putting him together again," and Steve tried to lookas if the idea amused him.
"I'll lend it to you with pleasure, so tell away," said Rose,nike shox torch 2, bound toget at the secret.
Evidently much relieved by the promise, Steve set his top-knotcheerfully erect again, and briefly stated the case.
"As you say, it's all right to tell you, but don't let the boys know Iblabbed, or Prince will take my head off. You see, Archie don'tlike some of the fellows Charlie goes with, and cuts 'em. Thatmakes Prince mad, and he holds on just to plague Arch, so theydon't speak to one another, if they can help it, and that's the row.""Are those boys bad?" asked Rose, anxiously.
"Guess not, only rather wild. They are older than our fellows, butthey like Prince, he's such a jolly boy; sings so well, dances jigsand breakdowns, you know, and plays any game that's going. Hebeat Morse at billiards,Replica Designer Handbags, and that's something to brag of, for Morsethinks he knows everything. I saw the match, and it was great fun!"Steve got quite excited over the prowess of Charlie, whom headmired immensely, and tried to imitate. Rose did not know halfthe danger of such gifts and tastes as Charlie's, but feltinstinctively that something must be wrong if Archie disapproved,Designer Handbags.
"Steve, I want you to tell me something," said Rose to Dandy, whowas making faces at himself in the glass, while he waited for ananswer to the note he brought from his mother to Aunt Plenty.
"P'raps I will, and p'raps I won't. What is it?""Haven't Arch and Charlie quarrelled?""Dare say; we fellows are always having little rows, you know. Ido believe a sty is coming on my star-board eye," and Steveaffected to be absorbed in a survey of his yellow lashes.
"No, that won't do; I want to know all about it; for I'm suresomething more serious than a 'little row' is the matter. Come,please tell me, Stenie, there's a dear.""Botheration! you don't want me to turn telltale, do you?" growledSteve, pulling his top-knot, as he always did when perplexed.
"Yes, I do," was Rose's decided answer for she saw from hismanner that she was right, and determined to have the secret out ofhim if coaxing would do it. "I don't wish you to tell things toeveryone, of course, but to me you may, and you must, because Ihave a right to know. You boys need somebody to look after you,and I'm going to do it, for girls are nice peacemakers, and knowhow to manage people,fake uggs boots. Uncle said so, and he is never wrong."Steve was about to indulge in a derisive hoot at the idea of herlooking after them, but a sudden thought restrained him, andsuggested a way in which he could satisfy Rose, and better himselfat the same time.
"What will you give me if I'll tell you every bit about it?" he asked,with a sudden red in his cheeks and an uneasy look in his eyes, forhe was half ashamed of the proposition.
"What do you want?" and Rose looked up rather surprised at hisquestion.
"I'd like to borrow some money. I shouldn't think of asking you,only Mac never has a cent. since he's set up his old chemical shop,where he'll blow himself to bits some day, and you and uncle willhave the fun of putting him together again," and Steve tried to lookas if the idea amused him.
"I'll lend it to you with pleasure, so tell away," said Rose,nike shox torch 2, bound toget at the secret.
Evidently much relieved by the promise, Steve set his top-knotcheerfully erect again, and briefly stated the case.
"As you say, it's all right to tell you, but don't let the boys know Iblabbed, or Prince will take my head off. You see, Archie don'tlike some of the fellows Charlie goes with, and cuts 'em. Thatmakes Prince mad, and he holds on just to plague Arch, so theydon't speak to one another, if they can help it, and that's the row.""Are those boys bad?" asked Rose, anxiously.
"Guess not, only rather wild. They are older than our fellows, butthey like Prince, he's such a jolly boy; sings so well, dances jigsand breakdowns, you know, and plays any game that's going. Hebeat Morse at billiards,Replica Designer Handbags, and that's something to brag of, for Morsethinks he knows everything. I saw the match, and it was great fun!"Steve got quite excited over the prowess of Charlie, whom headmired immensely, and tried to imitate. Rose did not know halfthe danger of such gifts and tastes as Charlie's, but feltinstinctively that something must be wrong if Archie disapproved,Designer Handbags.
2012年11月6日星期二
At noon the squaws set out to gather canoe gum on the mainland
At noon the squaws set out to gather canoe gum on the mainland. They sat huddled in the bottom of their old and leaky canoe, reaching far over the sides to dip their paddles, irregularly placed, silent, mysterious. They did not paddle with the unison of the men, but each jabbed a little short stroke as the time suited her, so that always some paddles were rising and some falling. Into the distance thus they flapped like wounded birds; then rounded a bend, and were gone.
The sun swung over and down the slope, Dinner time had passed; "smoke time" had come again. Squaws brought the first white-fish of the season to the kitchen door of the factory, and Matthews raised the hand of horror at the price they asked. Finally he bought six of about three pounds each, giving in exchange tea to the approximate value of twelve cents. The Indian women went away, secretly pleased over their bargain.
Down by the Indian camp suddenly broke the roar of a dog-fight. Two of the sledge _giddes_ had come to teeth, and the friends of both were assisting the cause. The idlers went to see, laughing, shouting, running impromptu races. They sat on their haunches and cheered ironically, and made small bets, and encouraged the frantic old squaw hags who, at imminent risk, were trying to disintegrate the snarling, rolling mass. Over in the high log stockade wherein the Company's sledge animals were confined, other wolf-dogs howled mournfully, desolated at missing the fun.
And always the sun swung lower and lower toward the west, until finally the long northern twilight fell, and the girl in the little white bedroom at the factory bathed her face and whispered for the hundredth time to her beating heart:
"Night has come!"
Chapter 13
That evening at dinner Virginia studied her father's face again. She saw the square settled line of the jaw under the beard, the unwavering frown of the heavy eyebrows, the unblinking purpose of the cavernous, mysterious eyes. Never had she felt herself very close to this silent, inscrutable man, even in his moments of more affectionate expansion. Now a gulf divided them.
And yet,link, strangely enough, she experienced no revulsion, no horror, no recoil even. He had merely become more aloof, more incomprehensible; his purposes vaster, less susceptible to the grasp of such as she. There may have been some basis for this feeling, or it may have been merely the reflex glow of a joy that made all other things seem insignificant.
As soon as might be after the meal Virginia slipped away, carrying the rifle, the cartridges, the matches,louis vuitton australia, and the salt. She was cruelly frightened.
The night was providentially dark. No aurora threw its splendor across the dome,shox torch 2, and only a few rare stars peeped between the light cirrus clouds. Virginia left behind her the buildings of the Post, she passed in safety the tin-steepled chapel and the church house; there remained only the Indian camp between her and the woods trail. At once the dogs began to bark and howl,louis vuitton for mens, the fierce _giddes_ lifting their pointed noses to the sky. The girl hurried on, twinging far to the right through the grass. To her relief the camp did not respond to the summons. An old crone or so appeared in the flap of a teepee, eyes dazzled, to throw uselessly a billet of wood or a volley of Cree abuse at the animals nearest. In a moment Virginia entered the trail.
The sun swung over and down the slope, Dinner time had passed; "smoke time" had come again. Squaws brought the first white-fish of the season to the kitchen door of the factory, and Matthews raised the hand of horror at the price they asked. Finally he bought six of about three pounds each, giving in exchange tea to the approximate value of twelve cents. The Indian women went away, secretly pleased over their bargain.
Down by the Indian camp suddenly broke the roar of a dog-fight. Two of the sledge _giddes_ had come to teeth, and the friends of both were assisting the cause. The idlers went to see, laughing, shouting, running impromptu races. They sat on their haunches and cheered ironically, and made small bets, and encouraged the frantic old squaw hags who, at imminent risk, were trying to disintegrate the snarling, rolling mass. Over in the high log stockade wherein the Company's sledge animals were confined, other wolf-dogs howled mournfully, desolated at missing the fun.
And always the sun swung lower and lower toward the west, until finally the long northern twilight fell, and the girl in the little white bedroom at the factory bathed her face and whispered for the hundredth time to her beating heart:
"Night has come!"
Chapter 13
That evening at dinner Virginia studied her father's face again. She saw the square settled line of the jaw under the beard, the unwavering frown of the heavy eyebrows, the unblinking purpose of the cavernous, mysterious eyes. Never had she felt herself very close to this silent, inscrutable man, even in his moments of more affectionate expansion. Now a gulf divided them.
And yet,link, strangely enough, she experienced no revulsion, no horror, no recoil even. He had merely become more aloof, more incomprehensible; his purposes vaster, less susceptible to the grasp of such as she. There may have been some basis for this feeling, or it may have been merely the reflex glow of a joy that made all other things seem insignificant.
As soon as might be after the meal Virginia slipped away, carrying the rifle, the cartridges, the matches,louis vuitton australia, and the salt. She was cruelly frightened.
The night was providentially dark. No aurora threw its splendor across the dome,shox torch 2, and only a few rare stars peeped between the light cirrus clouds. Virginia left behind her the buildings of the Post, she passed in safety the tin-steepled chapel and the church house; there remained only the Indian camp between her and the woods trail. At once the dogs began to bark and howl,louis vuitton for mens, the fierce _giddes_ lifting their pointed noses to the sky. The girl hurried on, twinging far to the right through the grass. To her relief the camp did not respond to the summons. An old crone or so appeared in the flap of a teepee, eyes dazzled, to throw uselessly a billet of wood or a volley of Cree abuse at the animals nearest. In a moment Virginia entered the trail.
I used to wonder whether Margaret was satisfied with her husband's reputation
I used to wonder whether Margaret was satisfied with her husband's reputation. Perhaps she mistook the newspaper homage, the notoriety,replica mont blanc pens, for public respect. She saw his influence and his power. She saw that he was feared, and of course hated, by some--the unsuccessful--but she saw the terms he was on with his intimates, due to the fact that everybody admitted that whatever Henderson was in "a deal," privately he was a deuced good fellow.
Was this an ideal married life? Henderson's selfishness was fully developed, and I could see that he was growing more and more hard,Replica Designer Handbags. Would Margaret not have felt it, if she also had not been growing hard, and accustomed to regard the world in his unbelieving way,louis vuitton for mens? No, there was sharpness occasionally between them, tiffs and disagreements. He was a great deal away from home, and she plunged into a life of her own, which had all the external signs of enjoyment. I doubt if he was ever very selfish where she was concerned, and love can forgive almost any conduct where there is personal indulgence. I had a glimpse of the real state of things in a roundabout way. Henderson loved his wife and was proud of her, and he was not unkind, but he might have been a brute and tied her up to the bedpost, and she never would have shown by the least sign to the world that she was not the most happy of wives.
When the Earl of Chisholm was in this country it was four years after Margaret's marriage--we naturally saw a great deal of him. The young fellow whom we liked so much had become a man, with a graver demeanor, and I thought a trace of permanent sadness in his face; perhaps it was only the responsibility of his position, or, as Morgan said, the modern weight that must press upon an earl who is conscientious. He was still unmarried. The friendship between him and Miss Forsythe, which had been kept alive by occasional correspondence, became more cordial and confidential. In New York he had seen much of Margaret, not at all to his peace of mind in many ways, though the generous fellow would have been less hurt if he had not estimated at its real value the life she was leading. It did not need Margaret's introduction for the earl to be sought for by the novelty and pleasure loving society of the city; but he got, as he confessed, small satisfaction out of the whirl of it, although we knew that he met Mrs. Henderson everywhere, and in a manner assisted in her social triumphs. But he renewed his acquaintance with Miss Eschelle, and it was the prattle of this ingenuous creature that made him more heavy-hearted than anything else.
"How nice it is of you, Mr. Lyon--may I call you so,fake uggs for sale, to bring back the old relations?--to come here and revive the memory of the dear old days when we were all innocent and happy! Dear me, I used to think I could patronize that little country girl from Brandon! I was so worldly--don't you remember?--and she was so good. And now she is such a splendid woman, it is difficult for the rest of us to keep pace with her. The nerve she has, and the things she will do! I just envy her. I sometimes think she will drive me into a convent. And don't you think she is more beautiful than ever? Of course her face is a little careworn, but nobody makes up as she does; she was just ravishing the other night. Do you know, I think she takes her husband too seriously."
Was this an ideal married life? Henderson's selfishness was fully developed, and I could see that he was growing more and more hard,Replica Designer Handbags. Would Margaret not have felt it, if she also had not been growing hard, and accustomed to regard the world in his unbelieving way,louis vuitton for mens? No, there was sharpness occasionally between them, tiffs and disagreements. He was a great deal away from home, and she plunged into a life of her own, which had all the external signs of enjoyment. I doubt if he was ever very selfish where she was concerned, and love can forgive almost any conduct where there is personal indulgence. I had a glimpse of the real state of things in a roundabout way. Henderson loved his wife and was proud of her, and he was not unkind, but he might have been a brute and tied her up to the bedpost, and she never would have shown by the least sign to the world that she was not the most happy of wives.
When the Earl of Chisholm was in this country it was four years after Margaret's marriage--we naturally saw a great deal of him. The young fellow whom we liked so much had become a man, with a graver demeanor, and I thought a trace of permanent sadness in his face; perhaps it was only the responsibility of his position, or, as Morgan said, the modern weight that must press upon an earl who is conscientious. He was still unmarried. The friendship between him and Miss Forsythe, which had been kept alive by occasional correspondence, became more cordial and confidential. In New York he had seen much of Margaret, not at all to his peace of mind in many ways, though the generous fellow would have been less hurt if he had not estimated at its real value the life she was leading. It did not need Margaret's introduction for the earl to be sought for by the novelty and pleasure loving society of the city; but he got, as he confessed, small satisfaction out of the whirl of it, although we knew that he met Mrs. Henderson everywhere, and in a manner assisted in her social triumphs. But he renewed his acquaintance with Miss Eschelle, and it was the prattle of this ingenuous creature that made him more heavy-hearted than anything else.
"How nice it is of you, Mr. Lyon--may I call you so,fake uggs for sale, to bring back the old relations?--to come here and revive the memory of the dear old days when we were all innocent and happy! Dear me, I used to think I could patronize that little country girl from Brandon! I was so worldly--don't you remember?--and she was so good. And now she is such a splendid woman, it is difficult for the rest of us to keep pace with her. The nerve she has, and the things she will do! I just envy her. I sometimes think she will drive me into a convent. And don't you think she is more beautiful than ever? Of course her face is a little careworn, but nobody makes up as she does; she was just ravishing the other night. Do you know, I think she takes her husband too seriously."
2012年11月4日星期日
As I remember them together they chafed constantly
As I remember them together they chafed constantly. Her attitude to nearly all his moods and all his enterprises was a sceptical disapproval. She treated him as something that belonged to me and not to her. "YOUR father," she used to call him, as though I had got him for her.
She had married late and she had, I think, become mentally self-subsisting before her marriage. Even in those Herne Hill days I used to wonder what was going on in her mind, and I find that old speculative curiosity return as I write this. She took a considerable interest in the housework that our generally servantless condition put upon her--she used to have a charwoman in two or three times a week--but she did not do it with any great skill. She covered most of our furniture with flouncey ill-fitting covers, and she cooked plainly and without very much judgment. The Penge house, as it contained nearly all our Bromstead things, was crowded with furniture, and is chiefly associated in my mind with the smell of turpentine, a condiment she used very freely upon the veneered mahogany pieces. My mother had an equal dread of "blacks" by day and the "night air," so that our brightly clean windows were rarely open.
She took a morning paper, and she would open it and glance at the headlines, but she did not read it until the afternoon and then,fake uggs boots, I think,mont blanc pens, she was interested only in the more violent crimes, and in railway and mine disasters and in the minutest domesticities of the Royal Family. Most of the books at home were my father's, and I do not think she opened any of them. She had one or two volumes that dated from her own youth, and she tried in vain to interest me in them; there was Miss Strickland's QUEENS OF ENGLAND, a book I remember with particular animosity, and QUEECHY and the WIDE WIDE WORLD. She made these books of hers into a class apart by sewing outer covers upon them of calico and figured muslin. To me in these habiliments they seemed not so much books as confederated old ladies.
My mother was also very punctual with her religious duties, and rejoiced to watch me in the choir.
On winter evenings she occupied an armchair on the other side of the table at which I sat, head on hand reading, and she would be darning stockings or socks or the like,fake uggs online store. We achieved an effect of rather stuffy comfortableness that was soporific, and in a passive way I think she found these among her happy times. On such occasions she was wont to put her work down on her knees and fall into a sort of thoughtless musing that would last for long intervals and rouse my curiosity. For like most young people I could not imagine mental states without definite forms.
She carried on a correspondence with a number of cousins and friends, writing letters in a slanting Italian hand and dealing mainly with births, marriages and deaths, business starts (in the vaguest terms) and the distresses of bankruptcy.
And yet, you know, she did have a curious intimate life of her own that I suspected nothing of at the time, that only now becomes credible to me. She kept a diary that is still in my possession, a diary of fragmentary entries in a miscellaneous collection of pocket books. She put down the texts of the sermons she heard, and queer stiff little comments on casual visitors,--"Miss G. and much noisy shrieking talk about games and such frivolities and CROQUAY. A. delighted and VERY ATTENTIVE." Such little human entries abound. She had an odd way of never writing a name, only an initial; my father is always "A.," and I am always "D." It is manifest she followed the domestic events in the life of the Princess of Wales,knockoff handbags, who is now Queen Mother, with peculiar interest and sympathy. "Pray G. all may be well," she writes in one such crisis.
She had married late and she had, I think, become mentally self-subsisting before her marriage. Even in those Herne Hill days I used to wonder what was going on in her mind, and I find that old speculative curiosity return as I write this. She took a considerable interest in the housework that our generally servantless condition put upon her--she used to have a charwoman in two or three times a week--but she did not do it with any great skill. She covered most of our furniture with flouncey ill-fitting covers, and she cooked plainly and without very much judgment. The Penge house, as it contained nearly all our Bromstead things, was crowded with furniture, and is chiefly associated in my mind with the smell of turpentine, a condiment she used very freely upon the veneered mahogany pieces. My mother had an equal dread of "blacks" by day and the "night air," so that our brightly clean windows were rarely open.
She took a morning paper, and she would open it and glance at the headlines, but she did not read it until the afternoon and then,fake uggs boots, I think,mont blanc pens, she was interested only in the more violent crimes, and in railway and mine disasters and in the minutest domesticities of the Royal Family. Most of the books at home were my father's, and I do not think she opened any of them. She had one or two volumes that dated from her own youth, and she tried in vain to interest me in them; there was Miss Strickland's QUEENS OF ENGLAND, a book I remember with particular animosity, and QUEECHY and the WIDE WIDE WORLD. She made these books of hers into a class apart by sewing outer covers upon them of calico and figured muslin. To me in these habiliments they seemed not so much books as confederated old ladies.
My mother was also very punctual with her religious duties, and rejoiced to watch me in the choir.
On winter evenings she occupied an armchair on the other side of the table at which I sat, head on hand reading, and she would be darning stockings or socks or the like,fake uggs online store. We achieved an effect of rather stuffy comfortableness that was soporific, and in a passive way I think she found these among her happy times. On such occasions she was wont to put her work down on her knees and fall into a sort of thoughtless musing that would last for long intervals and rouse my curiosity. For like most young people I could not imagine mental states without definite forms.
She carried on a correspondence with a number of cousins and friends, writing letters in a slanting Italian hand and dealing mainly with births, marriages and deaths, business starts (in the vaguest terms) and the distresses of bankruptcy.
And yet, you know, she did have a curious intimate life of her own that I suspected nothing of at the time, that only now becomes credible to me. She kept a diary that is still in my possession, a diary of fragmentary entries in a miscellaneous collection of pocket books. She put down the texts of the sermons she heard, and queer stiff little comments on casual visitors,--"Miss G. and much noisy shrieking talk about games and such frivolities and CROQUAY. A. delighted and VERY ATTENTIVE." Such little human entries abound. She had an odd way of never writing a name, only an initial; my father is always "A.," and I am always "D." It is manifest she followed the domestic events in the life of the Princess of Wales,knockoff handbags, who is now Queen Mother, with peculiar interest and sympathy. "Pray G. all may be well," she writes in one such crisis.
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