声音简介
The village Post Office, with its clock and letter box, its postmistress lost in the heartless seductions of the Aristocracy and tales of coroneted woe, and the sallow- faced grocer watching from his window opposite, is the scene of a daily crisis in my life, when every afternoon I walk there: through the country lanes and asked that well-read young lady for my letters. I always expect good news and cheques, and then, of course, there is the magical Fortune which is coming, and word of it may reach me any day. What it is, This strange Felicity, or whence it shall arrive, I have no notion; but I hurry down in the morning to find the news on the breakfast table, open telegrams in the delighted panic, and cry "Here it comes!" when in the night-silence I hear wheels approaching along the road. So happy in the hope of happiness, and not greatly concerned with any other interest or ambition, I live on in my quiet, ordered house; and so I shall live perhaps until the end. Is it merely the last great summons and revelation for which I'm waiting?
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