|
|
|
The telephone bell made Laurence jump. Gilbert: 'I very strongly advise you to go and see your mother.' A harsh, cruel voice. He hung up. Laurence dialed her mother's number. She hated this machine that made people so close and so remote; a Cassandra whose harsh voice broke abruptly into one's day - the mouthpiece of disaster. Far away the bell throbbed in the silence....
Simone de Beauvoir, Les Belles Images, trans. Patrick O'Brian, Fontana Modern Novels, Collins Sons & Co., Ltd., London, N.Y., 1968, p. 103.
TIME: 1960's
PLACE: Paris
home
