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A Strange Greeting, a True Feeling Last week I was invited to a doctor's meeting at the Ruth hospital for incurables. In one of the wards a patient, an old man, got up shakily from his bed and moved towards me. I could see that he hadn't long to 1 , but he came up to me and placed his right foot close mine on the floor.
“Frank！” I cried in astonishment. He couldn't 2 , as I knew, but all the time 3 his foot against mine.
My 4 raced back more than thirty years to the 5 days of 1941, when I was a student in London. The 6 was an air-raid shelter, in which I and about hundred other people slept every night. Two of the regulars were Mrs. West and her son Frank.
7 wartime problems, we shelter-dwellers got to 8 each other very well. Frank West 9 me because he wasn't 10 , not even at birth. His mother told me he was 37 then, but he had 11 of a mind than a baby has. His “ 12 “ consisted of rough sounds--sounds of pleasure or anger and 13 more. Mrs. West, then about 75, was a strong, capable woman, as she had to be, of course, because Frank 14 on her entirely. He needed all the 15 of a baby.
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发表于 2016-7-6 12:01:38