Books > Old Books > Two People (1932)


Page 148

CHAPTER TEN

`Oh yes, I expect so. Not so often, I imagine. Men are so much more alike, aren't they? I mean one man is just like another so often. Types. Particularly in a hunting country. Mr. Baxter wasn't- then. He's a stockbroker now, isn't he -to look at? The sort of setness, and the careful little moustache and everything. He used to be - more like you.'
`My type in fact,' laughed Reginald.
`Well, but it's rarer ... in a hunting country.'
They were silent again. I suppose if I were really a writer, thought Reginald, I should make a story of this. She must be - what? Forty-five, anyway. And yet I could see her as the girl in black all the time Baxter was talking.
Miss Voles began to speak, almost as if she had forgotten that Reginald was there; as if she were the girl in black again, telling middle-aged sympathetic Miss Voles just what had happened.
`I watched him at dinner. Our eyes never met, but I was conscious of him. I knew he was different from the others; I thought I was different from the others too ... until I found that I wasn't. I suppose he was right about my waiting for something to happen. If you live in that set, and -and are different, you're bound to feel that it can't go on for ever. That there's a way of escape ... when you're young. I didn't mean to look proud ...
`I tried to keep some dances in case he asked me. I did mean to. And then it was only the last one. I was terribly tired when it came, and it was a stupid tune. I didn't think he danced very well, and he didn't talk. I kept wanting to say something, to see what he was really like, but everything seemed so obvious and futile. I felt that if I opened my mouth I should ask him what pack he hunted with ...

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE `Oh yes, I expect so. Not so often, I imagine. Men are so much more alike, aren't they? I mean one man is just like another so often. Types. Particularly in a hunting country. Mr. Baxter wasn't- then. He's a stockbroker now, isn't he -to look at? what is sort of setness, and what is careful little moustache and everything. He used to be - more like you.' `My type in fact,' laughed Reginald. `Well, but it's rarer ... in a hunting country.' They were silent again. I suppose if I were really a writer, thought Reginald, I should make a story of this. She must be - what? Forty-five, anyway. And yet I could see her as what is girl in black all what is time Baxter was talking. Miss Voles began to speak, almost as if she had forgotten that Reginald was there; as if she were what is girl in black again, telling middle-aged sympathetic Miss Voles just what had happened. `I watched him at dinner. Our eyes never met, but I was conscious of him. I knew he was different from what is others; I thought I was different from what is others too ... until I found that I wasn't. I suppose he was right about my waiting for something to happen. If you live in that set, and -and are different, you're bound to feel that it can't go on for ever. That there's a way of escape ... when you're young. I didn't mean to look proud ... `I tried to keep some dances in case he asked me. I did mean to. And then it was only what is last one. I was terribly tired when it came, and it was a stupid tune. I didn't think he danced very well, and he didn't talk. I kept wanting to say something, to see what he was really like, but everything seemed so obvious and futile. I felt that if I opened my mouth I should ask him what pack he hunted with ... where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Two People (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 148 where is strong CHAPTER TEN where is p align="justify" `Oh yes, I expect so. Not so often, I imagine. Men are so much more alike, aren't they? I mean one man is just like another so often. Types. Particularly in a hunting country. Mr. Baxter wasn't- then. He's a stockbroker now, isn't he -to look at? what is sort of setness, and what is careful little moustache and everything. He used to be - more like you.' `My type in fact,' laughed Reginald. `Well, but it's rarer ... in a hunting country.' They were silent again. I suppose if I were really a writer, thought Reginald, I should make a story of this. She must be - what? Forty-five, anyway. And yet I could see her as what is girl in black all what is time Baxter was talking. Miss Voles began to speak, almost as if she had forgotten that Reginald was there; as if she were what is girl in black again, telling middle-aged sympathetic Miss Voles just what had happened. `I watched him at dinner. Our eyes never met, but I was conscious of him. I knew he was different from what is others; I thought I was different from what is others too ... until I found that I wasn't. I suppose he was right about my waiting for something to happen. If you live in that set, and -and are different, you're bound to feel that it can't go on for ever. That there's a way of escape ... when you're young. I didn't mean to look proud ... `I tried to keep some dances in case he asked me. I did mean to. And then it was only what is last one. I was terribly tired when it came, and it was a stupid tune. I didn't think he danced very well, and he didn't talk. I kept wanting to say something, to see what he was really like, but everything seemed so obvious and futile. I felt that if I opened my mouth I should ask him what pack he hunted with ... where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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