February 26, 2013


Two Americans, lurking at a corner, spoke to her invitingly, calling her "sister". She walked on, conscious of having let them off -- of having spared them the chill embarrassment which would have fallen upon them had they realised their ambition to talk to her and see her -- conscious, therefore, of a blackness within the blackness of this fleeting street episode of which they, in common with other soldiers who accosted her under similar conditions, remained unaware.
Patrick Hamilton, The Slaves of Solitude
Posted by Dr. Frank at February 26, 2013 06:50 PM