The Wild Olive by Basil King
page 38 of 353 (10%)
page 38 of 353 (10%)
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"My mother died a few months after I was born." "Oh! But even so, you live somewhere, don't you?" "I do; but they don't miss me there, if that's what you want to know." "I was only afraid," he said, apologetically, "that you were giving me too much of your time." "I've nothing else to do with it. I shall be only too glad if I can help you to escape." "Why? Why should you care about me?" "I don't," she said, simply; "at least, I don't know that I do." "Oh, then you're helping me just--on general principles?" "Quite so." "Well," he smiled, "mayn't I ask why, again?" "Because I don't like the law." "You mean that you don't like the law as a whole?--or--or this law in particular?" "I don't like any law. I don't like anything about it. But," she added, resorting to her usual method of escape, "we mustn't talk any more now. |
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