Room 512: late Friday night
I sing of warfare and a man at war.
From the sea-coast of Troy in early days
He came to Italy by destiny,
To our Lavinian western shore,
A fugitive, this captain, buffeted...
"Really, I don't think the draperies are helping," Evie told Anne suddenly, perched on the edge of her window-seat, one hand up in dramatic declamation style. "I don't feel like Virgil. Or even Emily Bronte."
From the sea-coast of Troy in early days
He came to Italy by destiny,
To our Lavinian western shore,
A fugitive, this captain, buffeted...
"Really, I don't think the draperies are helping," Evie told Anne suddenly, perched on the edge of her window-seat, one hand up in dramatic declamation style. "I don't feel like Virgil. Or even Emily Bronte."