“Annabelle surveyed the dark red and gilt oppressiveness of the Como with frank satisfaction as she waited for the lights to fade for the big picture. “It’s like settling down to dream in a great State bed. Flicks are rather like dreams, aren’t they?” Polly did not answer at once. She was getting herself thoroughly comfortable in the seat she liked best, with the plush-covered ledge for her bag and nothing save a misty expanse of air between her and the giant shadows. She was hatless because it ...was evening and had achieved a considerable presence without looking particularly smart. Her clothes were of good material, very plainly made, and her kindly face wore the solemn preoccupation of a child’s. “Dreams,” she echoed suddenly. “I suppose they are. That’s why I like them best without colour. Now listen, my dear, you say you really have heard of that man Mr. Campion before, and that the tale about him is that he is not just a silly ass?” She made no pause between the two subjects and Annabelle was amused.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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