“There ought to be some punctuation mark specially to indicate such pauses, like the sign that indicates a rest in music. ‘Where are you?’ she asked. ‘Oh, just over there, the one with the pillars.’ She started up the car again. ‘I’ll turn round and get right outside the door.’ ‘No, don’t please, this is fine.’ ‘Do you find it very dull here?’ she said, as she handed my parcels to me through the window. ‘Well, I don’t know. I don’t seem to have any definite sort of life, yet. There are very few ...cities in the world that can stand up to being taken neat.’ ‘We always feel so apologetic about it,’ she smiled. ‘You get used to hearing people from England and Europe telling you that there’s nothing here – rolling their eyes and throwing up their hands. . . . You don’t know exactly what they mean, but you feel they’re right.’ ‘What do they mean, d’you suppose?’ The gathering darkness was like blotting-paper into which one shape ran into another; only her hands, resting on the steering wheel, and her face, showed in the car, and the street-lamps made pastel corollas for their luminous pistils out of the black mass of the trees.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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