She still kicked herself for it. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. She was practicing with them on that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as first chair. “With your permission,” he said to Anna, “I shall arrange a bed for him where he is. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 04-07-2024 19:14:16
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