Thunder on the left

On parla des passions. “Ah! qu’elles sont funestes!” disait Zadig.--“Ce sont les vents qui enflent les voiles du vaisseau,” repartit l’ermite: “elles le submergent quelquefois;...

Why on earth George wanted her to invite the Clyde creature when things were complicated enough already ... she had never cared much for her even as a child ... to have outsider...

Phyllis’s footsteps were coming downstairs. He was always worried when he heard them like that: slow and light, pausing every few treads. That meant she was thinking about somet...

For a moment transparent Time swung in a warm, dull, uncertain equilibrium. Phyllis could see Lizzie jolt heavily down the kitchen steps and bend over the garbage can. The grind...

She looked down at him. Even in the warm listless dream that seemed to have mastered her, she was touched by the foolish appeal in his red, dust-streaked face. Where the light c...

But there was something deeper than that--something she couldn’t profitably discuss with Ben. With the clairvoyance of woman she saw, and resented, a creature somehow more detac...

She went slowly down the stairs. Be calm, be calm, she said to herself; this too will pass; this isn’t Shakespeare but only the children’s supper time. But the flow of her blood...

Janet and Sylvia were already in the two cots on the balcony; but their eyes were waiting for George, with that look of entreating expectancy worn by those who look upward from...

George had still cherished a forlorn hope that the world was large enough for him and Joyce to have a few moments alone. For several days the stable had been sanctified in his a...

She felt soft and ill. She felt her pliant body settling deeper into the thick cushion, her hands weighing inert upon her lap. She wished Ben and Ruth could be restful for a mom...

Then he knew that the sand was chill and gritty. A breeze was blowing, the light was dim and meagre. This was not the glad forgiving sun but the cold and glassy moon.

He held her close and more close. Then, with a gruesome pang, he checked the name that was on his lips. In the poor comedy of his heart there was room for but one thought: grati...

She stared, her face quivering. Suddenly the line of her mouth seemed to collapse and run downward. Something tight had broken, something proud and fierce had bent. She was crying.