Crazy Radio eBooks

Hermione drew in.
"There is something disgusting in nature to-night," she said--
"something that seems almost unnatural."
The blind man began to sing behind them. His voice was soft and
throaty. The phrasing was sickly. Some notes trembled. As he sang he
threw back his head, stared with his sightless eyes at the ceiling,
and showed his tongue. The whole of his fat body swayed. His face
became scarlet. The two hopeless, middle-aged men on either side of
him stared into vacancy as, with dirty hands on which the veins stood
out, they played wrong basses to the melody on their guitars.
Suddenly Hermione was seized with a sensation of fear.
"Let us go. We had better go. Ah!"
She cried out. The wind, returning, had caught the white table-cloth.
It flew up towards her, then sank down.
"What a fool I am!" she said. "I thought--I didn't know--"
She felt that really it was something in Artois which had upset her
nerves, but she did not say so. In that moment, when she was startled,
she had instinctively put out her hand towards him.


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