Capitolo 3
"Having trust that Your rheumatism is a lot of better this
morning, I am
"With hurry the Your,
"CORNELIA.
"P. S. Apropos Your sentimental passion for letters, me
includes a ridiculous circular that was given to me
yesterday to the Change of the Donna. You had better
investigate him. It seems to be rather Your kind."
As the letter fluttered out of its hand closed Stanton its eyes with a
twist some physical suffering. Then he picked up again the letter and
very attentively scrutinizes him/it from the monogram of severe silver to the
signature of enormous gothic, but he could not find an only thing that him
for;--not you/he/she was looking at a nourishing paragraph; not a stimulating
sentence; not also so a lot as a small word sweet-al taste of what it was
value that steals out some prosaic text to fold up away in the pockets of
his/her mind for his/her memory to chew above noisily in his/her hungry times. Now each
who knows nothing he/she knows well perfectly that also a business
letter doesn't deserve the paper on which you/he/she is written unless it
it contains at least a meaningful sentence that is worth
the night to remember and to think around. And as to the person in love that does
doesn't write meaningful sentences--help of Sky the young consort that finds
him so the mismated to so spiritually speak for common places a nature! Confused,
perplexed, oddly uncomfortable, Stanton placed and studied the sterile page
in front of him. Then its poor heart suddenly wrinkled on as a persimmon
with the horrible one, surly hit that experiments a man when he understands
for the first time that the woman that he loves it is not timid,
but--_stingy_.
With snow and the obscurity and the pain and the loneliness the rest of the day
dragged from. Now after now, defenseless, without impotent hope suddenly as
although same Time was bleeding to death, the minutes formed beads and
dripped by the old wood clock. From midday the room was as I darken as
flat-water, and Stanton placed and pierced in the messy one, sudsy