The Winds of Change
“Her chin was on her knee and for one swift second she reminded Jury of Lulu, when the two couldn’t have been more different, and not just age-wise. Carole-anne’s hair was ginger, although that hardly described it: Santa Fe sunset colored was better, and her eyes were a ferocious blue, burning turquoise right now as she revved up again with her complaint that Richard Jury was lately too much among the seldom seen.
‘And poor Mrs. W–’ This was Mrs. Wasserman, in the garden flat, whose every breath..., to hear Carole-anne tell it, depended on Jury’s presence here in Islington.
‘–has really been having an awful bad time with her bronchitis and all.’ ‘She’s always had bronchitis. She’s nearly eighty, after all. One would expect one or two bad days now and then.’ Finished with her toenails, Carole-anne plunked the tiny brush back into its bottle, crossed her arms over her breasts and stretched out her legs and looked at the effect.MoreLess
‘And poor Mrs. W–’ This was Mrs. Wasserman, in the garden flat, whose every breath..., to hear Carole-anne tell it, depended on Jury’s presence here in Islington.
‘–has really been having an awful bad time with her bronchitis and all.’ ‘She’s always had bronchitis. She’s nearly eighty, after all. One would expect one or two bad days now and then.’ Finished with her toenails, Carole-anne plunked the tiny brush back into its bottle, crossed her arms over her breasts and stretched out her legs and looked at the effect.MoreLess
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