Explore "Her Brother's Keeper" by Agnes Giberne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"THERE never was such an unlucky dog! Everything goes wrong, no matter what I do. A hundred men may board a hundred busses, and do it safely. It's only I who must slip and break my arm. Stupendously idiotic of me, no doubt; but that doesn't mend matters."
Norman Hurst spoke in a tone of languid complaint, as he lay on the hard horse-hair sofa in their small sitting-room. They lived in lodgings, chosen, not for charm, but for cheapness. The one window looked out upon a dull street; the furniture was worn, the carpet was threadbare. But at least the place was clean, the landlady was honest and kind. Many pretty knick-knacks of their own lay about, and a few flowers gracefully arranged gave brightness. Dulcie had a womanly gift not possessed by all women for making the best of her surroundings; and a touch from those capable fingers would lend prettiness to the clumsiest materials.