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It'll be dark soon.' At his gate he asked me not to go. 'Don't go yet, don't go yet.'
We sat under the mango tree and I was holding his hand when he began to cry.
Drops fell on my hand like the water from the dripstone in the filter in our yard.
But I hear myself talking loud and I see my hands wave in the air. Too besides it's
no use, they won't believe me, so I don't finish. I stop, and I feel the tears on my
face. 'Prove it.' That's all they will say. They whisper, they whisper. They nod, they
I could have shaken his hand and said: 'Hail, brother Doormat, in a world of Boots
. ' But I'd been too sure of the smile to go on looking. After that I gave all my
attention to the little game the German was playing with my hand. He'd reached
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TIGERS ARE BETTER-LOOKINGUser Review - Kirkus
This continues and no doubt concludes the republication of the works of Jean Rhys — a collection of her short stories from her earliest (1927) ones to those of the '60's. Anything Jean Rhys wrote is ... Read full review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - tess_schoolmarm - LibraryThing
Just awful stream of consciousness short stories about almost suicidal women. Read full review
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