By Barbara Pym
Wilmet Forsyth is easily dressed, good sorted, definitely husbanded, stable taking a look and reasonably younger - yet very bored. Her husband Rodney, a good-looking military significant, is a bit balder and fatter than he as soon as was once. Wilmet wish to imagine she has replaced quite less.Her curiosity wanders to the within reach Anglo-catholic church, the place eventually she will be able to forget her cozy family within the extra serious-minded corporation of 3 single monks, and, in fact, Piers Longridge, a guy of an unfathomably diverse personality altogether.
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Additional info for A Glass of Blessings (Virago Modern Classics)
I sleep in her bed. I piss and shit in her pot. I have taken her place. I must resemble her more and more. All I need now is a son. Perhaps I have one somewhere. But I think not. He would be old now, nearly as old as myself. It was a little chambermaid. It wasn’t true love. The true love was in another. We’ll come to that. Her name? I’ve forgotten it again. It seems to me sometimes that I even knew my son, that I helped him. Then I tell myself it’s impossible. It’s impossible I could ever have helped anyone.
It was my hat that I beflowered. But it is neither of my hat nor of my greatcoat that I hope to speak at present, it would be premature. Doubtless I shall speak of them later, when the time comes to draw up the inventory of my goods and possessions. Unless I lose them between now and then. But even lost they will have their place, in the inventory of my possessions. But I am easy in my mind, I shall not lose them. Nor my crutches, I shall not lose my crutches either. But I shall perhaps one day throw them away.
I thought it over. Your mother, said the sergeant, is your mother’s—Let me think! I cried. At least I imagine that’s how it was. Take your time, said the sergeant. Was mother’s name Molloy? Very likely. Her name must be Molloy too, I said. They took me away, to the guardroom I suppose, and there I was told to sit down. I must have tried to explain. I won’t go into it. I obtained permission, if not to lie down on a bench, at least to remain standing, propped against the wall. The room was dark and full of people hastening to and fro, malefactors, policemen, lawyers, priests and journalists I suppose.