Then he would turn his head, and watch the child away, and say to Florence, 'We don't want any others, do we? Kiss me, Floy.'
Above all, he [Nigel Molesworth] is his own man, resolutely committed to a view of life that divides his fellow pupils into 'sissies', 'wets', 'swots' and 'old lags'.
Till then they had only exchanged glances of the most casual but now under the brim of her new hat she ventured a look at him and the face that met her gaze there in the twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to her the saddest she had ever seen.
He was a prize fool.
アカウントを持っていませんか？ 新規登録
アカウントを持っていますか？ ログイン
DiQt（ディクト）
無料
★★★★★★★★★★
