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Page 193

CHAPTER THE SIXTH
Discords

§ 1
ONE day Kipps set out upon his newly mastered bicycle to New Romney, to break the news of his engagement to his uncle and aunt-positively. He was now a finished cyclist, but as yet an unseasoned one; the south-west wind, even in its summer guise, as one meets it in the Marsh, is the equivalent of a reasonable hill, and ever and again he got off and refreshed himself by a spell of walking. He was walking just outside New Romney preparatory to his triumphal entry (one hand off), when abruptly he came upon Ann Pornick.
It chanced he was thinking about her at the time. He had been thinking curious things; whether, after all, the atmosphere of New Romney and the Marsh had not some difference, some faint impalpable quality that was missing in the great and fashionable world of Folkestone behind there on the hill. Here there was a homeliness, a familiarity. He had noted as he passed that old Mr. Clifferdown's gate had been mended with a fresh piece of string. In Folkestone he didn't take notice, and he didn't care if they built three hundred houses. Come to think of it, that was odd. It was fine and grand to have twelve hundred a year; it was fine to go about on trams and omnibuses and think not a person on board was as rich as oneself; it was fine to buy and order this and that and never have any work to do, and to be engaged to a girl distantly related to the Earl of Beaupres; but yet there had been a zest in the old time out here, a rare zest in the holidays, in sunlight, on the sea beach, and in the High Street, that failed from these new things. He thought of those bright windows of holiday that had seemed so glorious to him in the retrospect from his apprentice days. It was strange that now, amidst his present splendours, they were glorious still!
All those things were over now-perhaps that was it! Something had happened to the world, and the old light had been turned out. He himself was changed, and Sid

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE where is strong § 1 ONE day Kipps set out upon his newly mastered bicycle to New Romney, to break what is news of his engagement to his uncle and aunt-positively. He was now a finished cyclist, but as yet an unseasoned one; what is south-west wind, even in its summer guise, as one meets it in what is Marsh, is what is equivalent of a reasonable hill, and ever and again he got off and refreshed himself by a spell of walking. He was walking just outside New Romney preparatory to his triumphal entry (one hand off), when abruptly he came upon Ann sport ick. It chanced he was thinking about her at what is time. He had been thinking curious things; whether, after all, what is atmosphere of New Romney and what is Marsh had not some difference, some faint impalpable quality that was missing in what is great and fashionable world of Folkestone behind there on what is hill. Here there was a homeliness, a familiarity. He had noted as he passed that old Mr. Clifferdown's gate had been mended with a fresh piece of string. In Folkestone he didn't take notice, and he didn't care if they built three hundred houses. Come to think of it, that was odd. It was fine and grand to have twelve hundred a year; it was fine to go about on trams and omnibuses and think not a person on board was as rich as oneself; it was fine to buy and order this and that and never have any work to do, and to be engaged to a girl distantly related to what is Earl of Beaupres; but yet there had been a zest in what is old time out here, a rare zest in what is holidays, in sunlight, on what is sea beach, and in what is High Street, that failed from these new things. He thought of those bright windows of holiday that had seemed so glorious to him in what is retrospect from his apprentice days. It was strange that now, amidst his present splendours, they were glorious still! All those things were over now-perhaps that was it! Something had happened to what is world, and what is old light had been turned out. He himself was changed, and Sid where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Kipps (1905) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 193 where is p align="center" where is strong CHAPTER what is SIXTH Discords where is p align="justify" where is strong § 1 ONE day Kipps set out upon his newly mastered bicycle to New Romney, to break what is news of his engagement to his uncle and aunt-positively. He was now a finished cyclist, but as yet an unseasoned one; the south-west wind, even in its summer guise, as one meets it in the Marsh, is what is equivalent of a reasonable hill, and ever and again he got off and refreshed himself by a spell of walking. He was walking just outside New Romney preparatory to his triumphal entry (one hand off), when abruptly he came upon Ann sport ick. It chanced he was thinking about her at what is time. He had been thinking curious things; whether, after all, what is atmosphere of New Romney and what is Marsh had not some difference, some faint impalpable quality that was missing in what is great and fashionable world of Folkestone behind there on what is hill. Here there was a homeliness, a familiarity. He had noted as he passed that old Mr. Clifferdown's gate had been mended with a fresh piece of string. In Folkestone he didn't take notice, and he didn't care if they built three hundred houses. Come to think of it, that was odd. It was fine and grand to have twelve hundred a year; it was fine to go about on trams and omnibuses and think not a person on board was as rich as oneself; it was fine to buy and order this and that and never have any work to do, and to be engaged to a girl distantly related to what is Earl of Beaupres; but yet there had been a zest in what is old time out here, a rare zest in what is holidays, in sunlight, on what is sea beach, and in what is High Street, that failed from these new things. He thought of those bright windows of holiday that had seemed so glorious to him in what is retrospect from his apprentice days. It was strange that now, amidst his present splendours, they were glorious still! All those things were over now-perhaps that was it! Something had happened to what is world, and what is old light had been turned out. He himself was changed, and Sid where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Kipps (1905) books

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