The sunlight dripped over the house like golden paint over an art
jar, and the freckling shadows here and there only intensified the
rigor of the bath of light. The Butterworth and Larkin houses
flanking were entrenched behind great stodgy trees; only the Happer
house took the full sun, and all day long faced the dusty
road-street with a tolerant kindly patience. This was the city of
Tarleton in southernmost Georgia, September afternoon. Up in her
bedroom window Sally Carrol Happer rested her nineteen-year-old
chin on a fifty-two-year-old sill and watched Clark Darrow's
ancient Ford turn the corner. The car was hot-being partly metallic
it retained all the heat it absorbed or evolved-and Clark Darrow
sitting bolt upright at the wheel wore a pained, strained
expression as though he considered himself a spare part, and rather
likely to break. He laboriously crossed two dust ruts, the wheels
squeaking indignantly at the encounter, and then with a terrifying
expression he gave the steering-gear a final wrench and deposited
self and car approximately in front of the Happer steps. There was
a heaving sound, a death-rattle, followed by a short silence; and
then the air was rent by a startling whistle.
|Country of origin:
F. Scott Fitzgerald
||229 x 152 x 2mm (L x W x T)
||Paperback - Trade
Special features >
Is the information for this product incomplete, wrong or inappropriate?
Let us know about it.
Does this product have an incorrect or missing image?
Send us a new image.
Is this product missing categories?
Add more categories.
Review This Product
No reviews yet - be the first to create one!