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700 Common Words Exercise No. 3 with Longhand
The woman sat by herself in the small room at the back of the house. She could hear the voices of the people sitting together in the large front room and at times a few notes from a well-known air would reach her from the radio set which was always kept near the door. Generally she liked to sit with the others in the evening, hearing them talk about the event of the day and expressing opinions on the news given out by B.B.C. The people were employed in such different ways and they held such widely differing opinions that she, who knew little about the arts in any form, believed that to sit in that room was as good as going to watch a play. That night, however, she continued to sit by herself in the small and rather plain back room that had been used as an office for the past thirty years. She looked down at her hands and saw on them signs of years of hard work. Not for her were the white hands of her boarders, few if any of whom had ever done any really hard work in their lives. Her hands were red and covered with little back lines. For as long as she could remember she had had to work for her living, helping her mother and afterwards working in the boarding house. That day her boarding house had been bought. She herself had signed the papers that meant that the house would pass into other hands next month. Another woman would own the boarding house and would plan the meals for the boarders and would, or so she hoped, look after their comfort and well-being. Nor had she any right to be upset about this because she herself had put the house up for sale with the announcement: A business for sale in good running order. The owner is willing to consider the sale at a reasonable price of the boarding house known as High View. It faces the sea and has room for 25 boarders. An interesting and profitable business for anyone willing to work. There were, it seemed, many people willing to work, for letters had been received from interested parties all over the country, and she had been successful in selling the boarding house to a young woman who would, she thought, run it on the same lines as she herself had done. Again she looked down at her red and hard worked hands. For her the days of hard work were over, for the sale had brought her a good round sum of money on which she could live peacefully for the rest of her days on earth without doing any work at all. A strange end to a strange life, she thought. She was 13 years old when her mother had died, and she had gone to live with a relation who worked as a housekeeper in a small boarding house at the seaside. She had become a maid of all work, running about for everyone and getting little for her trouble. After two years the owner of the boarding house, who was very old, had died, but the two of them she and her relation just kept on working in the same way. It appeared that no one was particularly interested in the old woman who had died, and they had found it possible to buy the house for such a small sum that, with the money paid by the boarders, they were easily able to make the necessary monthly payments. They had, as it were, fallen heir to the property. They kept the place very, very clean, and they gave the boarders good food and enough of it, and as the years passed they were able to buy the house next door and the house next door to that, until in the end High View became quite an important building. The property had become her own 15 years ago. She had never married like other women because the boarding house had been her life. Now, she was growing old and there was no one to whom she could leave the place. It was better sold to a young woman who would love it as she had done and would take good care of the boarders. The voice of the B.B.C announcer reached her. And that, he said, is the end of the news.
