[The Turmoil by Booth Tarkington]@TWC D-Link book
The Turmoil

CHAPTER XIII
8/20

How could they let themselves?
A falling building does not care who falls with it.
It does not choose who shall be upon its roof and who shall not.
Silence CAN be golden?
Yes.

But perhaps if a woman of the world should find herself by accident sitting beside a man for the length of time it must necessarily take two slow old horses to jog three miles, she might expect that man to say something of some sort! Even if she thought him a feeble hypochondriac, even if she had heard from others that he was a disappointment to his own people, even if she had seen for herself that he was a useless and irritating encumbrance everywhere, she might expect him at least to speak--she might expect him to open his mouth and try to make sounds, if he only barked.

If he did not even try, but sat every step of the way as dumb as a frozen fish, she might THINK him a frozen fish.

And she might be right.

She might be right if she thought him about as pleasant a companion as--as Bildad the Shuhite! Bibbs closed his note-book, replacing it in his trunk.


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