They took their places at a distant table. The floor was thickly strewn
with sawdust and shavings; and across the room ran a long and wide bench,
furnished at one end with a powerful vice; next to which three nails driven into
the boards served, it would appear from the lump of unconsumed tallow left in
their custody, as a substitute for a candlestick. ‘I
lived with the Valades for some years. Why
wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide
their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people
say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about
what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good
will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one
name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about
him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal
sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. All
the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked
for it, kept himself in training for it. The audience was made up of parents, teachers, and a
few other curious folks from town, all sitting hushed in
anticipatory silence as the school orchestra assembled
onstage.
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This video was uploaded to dantasticfood.net on 29-06-2024 13:31:56