You saw him? You have been to Remenham House?’ ‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. He was daring enough to have seized and carried him off before the whole congregation, but he preferred waiting. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 03-07-2024 17:12:50
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