Gender Readings. Top Ten. Ренц Т.Г - 16 стр.

crescendo. Fleetly! Ah, fleetly music’s gay measure. Breaking on the first
word of the last line, Ðàsses. And then on the word, away, you must
begin to die... to fade until the listening ear is nothing more than a
faint whisper... You can slow down as much as you like almost on the
last line. Now, please.”
       Again the two light taps, she lifted her arms again, fast! Ah, too
fast. “¾And the idea of settling down fills me with nothing but disgust
—” Disgust was what he had written, that was as good as to say their
engagement was definitely broken off. Broken off! Their engagement!
People had been surprised enough that she had got engaged. The
Science Mistress would not believe it at first. But nobody had been as
surprised as she. She was thirty. Basil was twenty-five. It had been a
miracle, simply a miracle, to hear him say, as they walked home
from church that very dark night, “You know, somehow or other,
I’ve got fond of you.” And he had taken hold of the end of her
ostrich feather boa. Passes away from the listening ear.
       “Repeat! Repeat!” said Miss Meadows. “More expression, girls!
Once more!”
       Fast! Ah, too fast. The older girls were crimson; some of the
younger ones began to cry. Big spots of rain blew against the win-
dows, and one could hear the willows whispering, “¾not that I do
not love you...”
       “But, my darling, if you love me,” thought Miss Meadows,
“I don’t mind how much it is. Love me as little as you like.” But she
knew he didn’t love her. Not to have cared enough to scratch out that
“disgust”, so that she couldn’t read it! Soon Autumn yields unto Win-
ter drear. She would have to leave the school, too. She could never
face the Science Mistress or the girls after it got known. She would
have to disappear somewhere. Passes away. The voices began to die, to
fade, to whisper to vanish...
       Suddenly the door opened. A little girl in blue walked fussily up
the aisle, hanging her head, biting her li ps, and twisting the silver
bangle on her red little wrist. She came up the steps and stood before
Miss Meadows.
       “Well, Monica, what is it?”
       “Oh, if you please, Miss Meadows,” said the little girl, gasping,
“Miss Wyatt wants to see you in the mistresses’ room.”
       “Very well,” said Miss Meadows. And she called to the girls,
I shall put you on your honour to talk quietly while I am away.” But

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