‘Eleanor Marks? Have I met her? Is she that cousin of yours, who works at the poulterers?’
She gazed at me then as if I had not asked the question, but barked it. Ralph put down his fork. ‘Eleanor Marx,’ he said, ‘is a writer and a speaker and a very great socialist…’
I blushed: this was worse than asking what cooperative meant. But when Ralph saw my cheeks, he looked kind: ‘You mustn’t mind it. Why should you know? I’m sure, you might mention a dozen writers you have read, and Flo and I would not know one of them.’
‘That true,’ I said, very grateful to him; but though I had read proper books at Diana’s, I could think, at that moment, only of the improper ones - and they all had the same author: Anonymous.
* * *
At New Year we drank a toast to 1895, and another to ‘absent friends’ - she meant Lilian, of course; I’d never told her about all the friends that I had lost.
— Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters
- wanderinggreywing likes this
- a-hopeless-bibliophile likes this
- fuckyeahlesbianliterature reblogged this from somecomedysomefun
- newbornnebulae likes this
- l3sbians reblogged this from somecomedysomefun and added:
- lesbrary likes this
- somecomedysomefun posted this