[Vwoolf] The store detective's account

[kllevenback at att.net]

Nor do I.
Karen


________________________________
From: Stuart N. Clarke <stuart.n.clarke at btinternet.com>
To: vwoolf at lists.service.ohio-state.edu
Sent: Wed, October 3, 2012 7:41:27 AM
Subject: Re: [Vwoolf] The store detective's account


Oh dear, I’ve done it again.  I never think that I’ll be taken seriously!


From Gibbon’s Decline and Fall
 
When rumours were bruited that the Nazarene had survived the crucifixion, 
Pontius Pilate interpreted this as a slur on the efficiency of his 
administration.  He attempted to dismiss such claims with inappropriate levity.  
If men sealed a cave with a stone, he said, there was nothing sinister in the 
dexterity with which other men might remove it.  As for the concubine in the 
garden, he considered that her wits had been softened in the course of her 
profession.  As the rumours increased, however, he sought the assistance of the 
Sadducees, Pharisees and Samaritans, but unfortunately their internecine hatreds 
overpowered their evidentiary abilities, thus destroying the confidence and 
exciting the resentment of Pilate.  When he heard several weeks later that the 
supposed survivor had ascended into the empyrean leaving no trace behind, his 
relief was tempered with anxiety, for he knew that it is easier to behead a man 
than a chimera.
 

Stuart


From: kllevenback at att.net 
Sent: Wednesday, October 03, 2012 12:08 PM
To: Stuart N. Clarke ; vwoolf at lists.service.ohio-state.edu 
Subject: Re: [Vwoolf] The store detective's account
How curious, Stuart.

Where and when was this recorded?

Cheers--
Karen Levenback

 



________________________________
From: Stuart N. Clarke <stuart.n.clarke at btinternet.com>
To: vwoolf at lists.service.ohio-state.edu
Sent: Wed, October 3, 2012 6:33:24 AM
Subject: [Vwoolf] The store detective's account



“Another theft to-day. This woman—obviously a lady even tho’ she looked as if 
she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards—was trying on a jacket. The daft 
thing put her handbag under her mangy fur coat for a minute and then turned 
back. Of course it had gone. We had seen you-know-who, but it was too late to 
catch her. This Mrs. Woolf doesn’t have an account with Marshall & Snelgrove’s, 
so we couldn’t advance her anything officially. More fool me, but I took pity on 
the poor soul and lent her ten shillings. Hope she doesn’t lose my address—she 
seemed as if she’d lose her head if it wasn’t screwed on! Talk about vague and 
odd-looking. Anyway, I found her in the tel. book. She’s something to do with 
publishing in Tavistock Sq., apparently.”

Stuart 
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