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You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. She succumbed to cancer of the breast at age forty-three, it was slow and wasting. She did not understand the note of hostility to men that ran through it all, the bitter vindictiveness that lit Miss Miniver’s cheeks and eyes, the sense of some at last insupportable wrong slowly accumulated.

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This video was uploaded to choigaigoi.net on 12-07-2024 08:42:25

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