Your Electronic Books

"
"It would have some difficulty in blowing through yours," said Mrs.
Morel.
Morel looked down ruefully at his sides.
"Me!" he exclaimed. "I'm nowt b'r a skinned rabbit. My bones fair juts
out on me."
"I should like to know where," retorted his wife.
"Iv'ry-wheer! I'm nobbut a sack o' faggots."
Mrs. Morel laughed. He had still a wonderfully young body, muscular,
without any fat. His skin was smooth and clear. It might have been the
body of a man of twenty-eight, except that there were, perhaps, too many
blue scars, like tattoo-marks, where the coal-dust remained under the
skin, and that his chest was too hairy. But he put his hand on his side
ruefully. It was his fixed belief that, because he did not get fat,
he was as thin as a starved rat. Paul looked at his father's thick,
brownish hands all scarred, with broken nails, rubbing the fine
smoothness of his sides, and the incongruity struck him. It seemed
strange they were the same flesh.
"I suppose," he said to his father, "you had a good figure once.


Pages:
393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417