2017-02-09 10:52:11Life in the Fast Way
suddenly convulsed and trembled
But what surprised him most as he emerged from the darkness and confusion of the stage was the pure, clear light and deep quiet at present pervading the lofty staircase, which one evening when he had seen it before had been bathed in gas fumes and loud with the footsteps of women scampering over the different floors. He felt that the dressing rooms were empty, the corridors deserted; not a soul was there; not a sound broke the stillness, while through the square windows on the level of the stairs the pale November sunlight filtered and cast yellow patches of light, full of dancing dust, amid the dead, peaceful air which seemed to descend from the regions above reenex CPS.
He was glad of this calm and the silence, and he went slowly up, trying to regain breath as he went, for his heart was thumping, and he was afraid lest he might behave childishly and give way to sighs and tears. Accordingly on the first-floor landing he leaned up against a wall--for he was sure of not being observed--and pressed his handkerchief to his mouth and gazed at the warped steps, the iron balustrade bright with the friction of many hands, the scraped paint on the walls--all the squalor, in fact, which that house of tolerance so crudely displayed at the pale afternoon hour when courtesans are asleep.
"Oh, it's impossible, little man. Never, never, will I live with you again you find limited."
"Why?" he stuttered, and his face seemed contracted in unspeakable suffering.
"Why? Hang it all, because--It's impossible; that's about it. I don't want to."
He looked ardently at her for some seconds longer. Then his legs curved under him and he fell on the floor. In a bored voice she added this simple advice:
"Ah, don't be a baby!"
But he was one already. Dropping at her feet, he had put his arms round her waist and was hugging her closely, pressing his face hard against her knees. When he felt her thus--when he once more divined the presence of her velvety limbs beneath the thin fabric of her dress--he was , as it were, with fever, while madly, savagely, he pressed his face against her knees as though he had been anxious to force through her flesh. The old chair creaked, and beneath the low ceiling, where the air was pungent with stale perfumes, smothered sobs of desire were audible Applied Biology BSc.
He was glad of this calm and the silence, and he went slowly up, trying to regain breath as he went, for his heart was thumping, and he was afraid lest he might behave childishly and give way to sighs and tears. Accordingly on the first-floor landing he leaned up against a wall--for he was sure of not being observed--and pressed his handkerchief to his mouth and gazed at the warped steps, the iron balustrade bright with the friction of many hands, the scraped paint on the walls--all the squalor, in fact, which that house of tolerance so crudely displayed at the pale afternoon hour when courtesans are asleep.
"Oh, it's impossible, little man. Never, never, will I live with you again you find limited."
"Why?" he stuttered, and his face seemed contracted in unspeakable suffering.
"Why? Hang it all, because--It's impossible; that's about it. I don't want to."
He looked ardently at her for some seconds longer. Then his legs curved under him and he fell on the floor. In a bored voice she added this simple advice:
"Ah, don't be a baby!"
But he was one already. Dropping at her feet, he had put his arms round her waist and was hugging her closely, pressing his face hard against her knees. When he felt her thus--when he once more divined the presence of her velvety limbs beneath the thin fabric of her dress--he was , as it were, with fever, while madly, savagely, he pressed his face against her knees as though he had been anxious to force through her flesh. The old chair creaked, and beneath the low ceiling, where the air was pungent with stale perfumes, smothered sobs of desire were audible Applied Biology BSc.