In The Bishop’s Carriage 在主教的马车里

IN THE BISHOP'S CARRIAGE IN THE BISHOP'S CARRIAGE MIRIAM MICHELSON 更多好书请点击 www.uus8.org IN THE BISHOP'S CARRIAGE I. When the thing was at its hottest, I bolted. Tom, like the darling he is--(Yes, you are, old fellow, you're as precious to me as--as you are to the police--if they could only get their hands on you)--well, Tom drew off the crowd, having passed the old gentleman's watch to me, and I made for the women's rooms. The station was crowded, as it always is in the afternoon, and in a minute I was strolling into the big, square room, saying slowly to myself to keep me steady: "Nancy, you're a college girl--just in from Bryn Mawr to meet your papa. Just see if your hat's on straight." I did, going up to the big glass and looking beyond my excited face to the room behind me. There sat the woman who can never nurse her baby except where everybody can see her, in a railroad station. There was the woman who's always hungry, nibbling chocolates out of a box; and the woman fallen asleep, with her hat on the side, and hairpins dropping out of her hair; and the woman who's beside herself with fear that she'll miss her t......