In evening, Elvis was brought to the house by a friend of Charlotte's, one of those with whom she would have to settle an account after the war --- unless, of course, he didn't come back.
The shiny white walls were painted with light and dim reflections of colors, and a thick black hearthrug smudged with curly pink roses
Emma often thought --- 'It's like a room on the stage in which the story of three sisters is about to unfold'.
Charlotte's friend
Charlotte dear, I've brought a friend. He was at Tobruk. Comes from South Africa, and doesn't know a soul over here.
Charlotte
I'm so glad!
Giving him both her hands
Charlotte
You must come as often as you like.
Elvis
You don't know what it feels like to be on a drawing- room again.
Richeal
I can very well imagine. It must feel like the peace of God
In that soft voice of hers, which was perfect an instrument
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