Ann Veronica had come to the Imperial College obsessed by the great figure
of Russell, by the part he had played in the Darwinian controversies, and by the
resolute effect of the grim-lipped, yellow, leonine face beneath the mane of
silvery hair. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain
letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves,
cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record
of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;"
accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. She
leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen
yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to
send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you
to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to
give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like
his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all
this, I suppose. ”
A little murmur of expectation, an audible silence announced the coming of
“Alcide. You will not find me unreasonable with you. Let's get one idea into our heads. —There, Mr. ’
‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. You had better go to bed. "Is it wrong, then, to surrender to good
impulses?"
"In the present instance, yes. That is, until I investigated Iovelli-Alberti in the
Fourteenth Century!”
They reached a part of the subdivision dubbed “The
Treehouse”, a popular hangout for edgy teens who
smoked joints in its foundation pits.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 06-07-2024 20:06:50