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Updated: June 9, 2025
I deplore all round what's after all a rather sad relation. Only, as I tell you, Nanda's the one, I naturally say to myself, for me now most to think of; if I don't assume too much, that is, that you don't suffer by my freedom." Mr. Longdon put by with a mere drop of his eyes the question of his suffering: there was so clearly for him an issue more relevant. "What do you know of my 'plan'?"
She took Nanda's parasol and held it as if a more delicate thing much than any one of hers she simply liked to have it. "Her clothes at your age at least must have been hideous. Was it at the place he took you to that he gave you tea?" she then went on. "Yes, at the Museum. We had an orgy in the refreshment-room. But he took me afterwards to Tishy's, where we had another." "He went IN with you?"
Brook hesitated it was, however, clearly not because she had noticed. "Not better surely than by dear Mitchy? Or even if you come to that by Tishy herself." Nanda's simplicity maintained itself. "Oh Mr. Longdon's different from Tishy." Her mother again hesitated. "You mean of course he knows more?" The girl considered it. "He doesn't know MORE. But he knows other things.
But it is a question whether a story which requires and postulates such a very particular background, so singular and so artificial, is reasonably denied the licence to make its background as effective as possible, by whatever means. Nanda's world is not the kind of society that can be taken for granted; it is not modernity in general, it is a small and very definite tract.
"Oh but, darling, Nanda's clean too!" the young lady in question interrupted; on which her fellow guest could only laugh with her as in relief from the antithesis of which her presence of mind had averted the completion, little indeed as in Mrs. Grendon's talk that element of style was usually involved.
Longdon distinguishes her is quite the sort of thing that gives a girl, as Harold says, a 'leg up. It's awfully curious and has made me think: he isn't anything whatever, as London estimates go, in himself so that what is it, pray, that makes him, when 'added on' to her, so double Nanda's value? Vanderbank's eyes were on the ceiling.
Mitchy had a short silence that might have represented a change of colour. "It isn't good enough?" But he instantly took himself up. "Of course he wants as I do to treat you with tact!" "Oh it's all right," Vanderbank immediately said. "Your 'tact' yours and his is marvellous, and Nanda's greatest of all."
I'm afraid at any rate you won't think I am," he pursued after a pause, "if I ask you what in the world since Harold does keep Lady Fanny so quiet Cashmore still requires Nanda's direction for." "Ah find out!" said Mrs. Brook. "Isn't Mrs. Donner quite shelved?" "Find out," she repeated. Vanderbank had reached the door and had his hand on the latch, but there was still something else.
They are about to worship him when Krishna dispels this knowledge and they look on him and Balarama as their sons. Then Krishna addresses them. For all these long years Vasudeva and Devaki have known that Krishna and Balarama were their children and have suffered accordingly. It was not Krishna's fault that he and Balarama were placed in Nanda's charge.
Well, I remember," Van went on, "that we had some good talk." The talk, Nanda's face implied, had become dim to her; but there were other things. "You know he's a great gardener I mean really one of the greatest. His garden's like a dinner in a house where the person the person of the house thoroughly knows and cares." "I see. And he sends you dishes from the table." "Often every week.
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