Johnyxxx
Senior Member
- Joined
- Oct 28, 2014
- Member Type
- Interested in Language
- Native Language
- Czech
- Home Country
- Czech Republic
- Current Location
- Czech Republic
Hello,
Can anybody tell me what the author means by forty-five?
The sheriff wiped his own forehead when we reached the sidewalk. “Git in your car right off,” he said, “and go on home. I’ll expect all of you to stay there till you hear from me. And listen. For God’s sakes be careful what you say and do. I never seen folks so stirred up.”
Our car was almost opposite the door by which we came out. I drove, with Anne beside me, and we went down to the highway by back streets. The impulse to stamp on the throttle was panic-strong in me, but I managed to resist it. We rolled out along the edge of the bay at forty-five and as Barsham Harbor dropped behind us I began to breathe without feeling as if a bar or iron were clamped around my chest. Anne’s face beside me was white, but she lit a cigarette with steady fingers.
“Fools,” said Mrs Walters after a time. “Small-town ignorant fools, that’s what they are.”
None of us could think of a suitable comment to that and we drove on in silence.
“That sheriff better keep them in order,” she went on, after a silence.
William Sloane, Edge of Running Water, 1939.
Thank you very much.
Can anybody tell me what the author means by forty-five?
The sheriff wiped his own forehead when we reached the sidewalk. “Git in your car right off,” he said, “and go on home. I’ll expect all of you to stay there till you hear from me. And listen. For God’s sakes be careful what you say and do. I never seen folks so stirred up.”
Our car was almost opposite the door by which we came out. I drove, with Anne beside me, and we went down to the highway by back streets. The impulse to stamp on the throttle was panic-strong in me, but I managed to resist it. We rolled out along the edge of the bay at forty-five and as Barsham Harbor dropped behind us I began to breathe without feeling as if a bar or iron were clamped around my chest. Anne’s face beside me was white, but she lit a cigarette with steady fingers.
“Fools,” said Mrs Walters after a time. “Small-town ignorant fools, that’s what they are.”
None of us could think of a suitable comment to that and we drove on in silence.
“That sheriff better keep them in order,” she went on, after a silence.
William Sloane, Edge of Running Water, 1939.
Thank you very much.