The Tall Girl from Somerset Chapter 6 A Journey to Manchester best forgotten
Chapter 6 A Journey to Manchester best forgotten The daies gon, the yeres passe, The hertes waxen lasse and lasse Of hem that ben to love untrewe. John Gower Confessio Amantis ‘The days go, the years pass, The hearts grow less and less Of those that are to love untrue.’ Old Gower was right, wasn’t he? The hearts of people who are false in love just shrivel up. They just shrivel up. Anne’s second year at university was a strange year. Going to lectures, going to meals, going to films. Yes, she did all that. One carries on, you know. One carries on. But it all seemed rather humdrum now. She wrote letters to Harvey, of course. In those days we wrote letters, you know, and the post worked well even out in the country. The postman mattered. The postman could tell you who was ill and who was well, and who had just inherited a fortune from an uncle in Westmoreland that no one knew about. He could tell you if those clouds meant rain or if they were just passing by, a