Not even that
animal cared for her--in the end.
"I really did think that he was attached to me. What did he want to
pretend for, like this? I thought nothing could hurt me any more. Oh
yes. I would have gone up, but I felt suddenly so tired. So tired. And
then you were there. I didn't know what you would do. You might have
tried to follow me and I didn't think I could run--not up hill--not
then."
She had raised her white face a little, and it was queer to hear her say
these things. At that time of the morning there are comparatively few
people out in that part of the town. The broad interminable perspective
of the East India Dock Road, the great perspective of drab brick walls,
of grey pavement, of muddy roadway rumbling dismally with loaded carts
and vans lost itself in the distance, imposing and shabby in its spacious
meanness of aspect, in its immeasurable poverty of forms, of colouring,
of life--under a harsh, unconcerned sky dried by the wind to a clear
blue. It had been raining during the night. The sunshine itself seemed
poor. From time to time a few bits of paper, a little dust and straw
whirled past us on the broad flat promontory of the pavement before the
rounded front of the hotel.
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