womens rainier boots floodlighted
twilight stank and was loud with flies.
“Linda!” the young man called.
From the inner room a rather hoarse female voice said, “Coming.”
They waited. In bowls on the floor were the remains of a meal, perhaps of several
meals.
The door opened. A very stout blonde squaw stepped across the threshold and
stood looking at the strangers staring incredulously, her mouth open. Lenina
noticed with disgust that two of the front teeth were missing. And the colour of the
ones that remained … She shuddered. It was worse than the old man. So fat. And
all the lines in her face, the flabbiness, the wrinkles. And the sagging cheeks, with
those purplish blotches. And the red veins on her nose, the bloodshot eyes. And
that neck–that neck; and the blanket she wore over her head–ragged and filthy.
And under the brown sack-shaped tunic those enormous breasts, the bulge of the
stomach, the hips. Oh,womens rainier boots, much worse than the old man, much worse! And suddenly
the creature burst out in a torrent of speech, rushed at her with outstretched arms
and–Ford! Ford! it was too revolting, in another moment she’d be sick–pressed her
against the bulge, the bosom, and began to kiss her. Ford! to kiss, slobberingly,
and smelt too horrible, obviously never had a bath, and simply reeked of that
beastly stuff that was put into Delta and Epsilon bottles (no, it wasn’t true about
Bernard), positively stank of alcohol. She broke away as quickly as she could.
A blubbered and distorted face confronted her; the creature was crying.
“Oh, my dear, my dear.” The torrent of words flowed sobbingly. “If you knew how
glad–after all these years! A civilized face. Yes,infants erin baby boots, and civilized clothes. Because I
thought I should never see a piece of real acetate silk again.” She fingered the
sleeve of Lenina’s shirt. The nails were black. “And those adorable viscose
velveteen shorts! Do you know, dear, I’ve still got my old clothes, the ones I came
in, put away in a box. I’ll show them you afterwards. Though, of course, the acetate
has all gone into holes. But such a lovely white bandolier–though I must say your
green morocco is even lovelier. Not that it did me much good, that bandolier.” Her
tears began to flow again. “I suppose John told you. What I had to suffer–and not a
gramme of soma to be had. Only a drink of mescal every now and then, when Popé
used to bring it. Popé is a boy I used to know. But it makes you feel so bad
afterwards. the mescal does, and you’re sick with the peyotl; besides it always made
that awful feeling of being ashamed much worse the next day. And I was so
ashamed. Just think of it: me, a Beta–having a baby: put yourself in my place.”
(The mere suggestion made Lenina shudder.) “Though it wasn’t my fault, I swear;
because I still don’t know how it happened, seeing that I did all the Malthusian
Drill–you know, by numbers, One,Purple Ugg, two, three, four, always, I swear it; but all the
same it happened, and of course there wasn’t anything like an Abortion Centre
here. Is it still down in Chelsea, by the way?” she asked. Lenina nodded. “And still
floodlighted on Tuesdays and Fridays?” Lenina nodded again. “That lovely pink
glass tower!” Poor Linda lifted her face and with closed eyes ecstatically
contemplated the bright remembered image. “And the river at night,” she
whispered. Great tears oozed slowly out from behind her tight-shut eyelids. “And
flying back in the evening from Stoke Poges. And then a hot bath and vibro-vacuum
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