Books > Old Books > Two People (1932)


Page 73

CHAPTER FIVE

he opened the linen-cupboard. Clean clothes airing. Sylvia's pretty things. More coke.
What on earth did he want from Sylvia which she didn't give him? Intellectual companionship? Help!
Can any one give a man intellectual companionship? Can any other man take his thoughts down your road, hand in hand, his mind ready to diverge with yours, hither or thither, without warning, without question, two minds that think as one? Impossible, surely. Wasn't the whole joy of thinking, and, as he had just discovered, of writing, that you were quite, quite alone? Wasn't talk, intellectual talk as differing from chatter, really just a form of vanity? You wanted a listener, not a talker. Well, if you wrote a book, you had your listeners.
It was this confounded book which had made him suddenly critical of Sylvia. From the day, he thought when I began to write it, and she must have wondered what I was doing, and she seemed to take no interest. From the day when I told her I had written it, and she said 'Fancy l' I suppose I'm touchy. Is a mother touchy about her child? Or, whatever it looks like, whatever its nature, does she feel an absolute assurance in her heart that it is perfect? One is touchy because one is uncertain, because one wants reassurance. Surely Shakespeare must have felt pretty certain about A Midsummer Night's Dream? Surely Keats wanted nobody to tell him the Nightingale was good? Or is one always - well, I'm not really a writer, so I don't know.
But, Sylvia, you do understand, don't you, that this is my child? It is growing up suddenly. I don't know what will happen, except that I shall never have another. It is my only child. Oh, Sylvia, be tender to it ...
And now let's read Raglan again. Anyhow, Raglan likes it.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE he opened what is linen-cupboard. Clean clothes airing. Sylvia's pretty things. More coke. What on earth did he want from Sylvia which she didn't give him? Intellectual companionship? Help! Can any one give a man intellectual companionship? Can any other man take his thoughts down your road, hand in hand, his mind ready to diverge with yours, hither or thither, without warning, without question, two minds that think as one? Impossible, surely. Wasn't what is whole joy of thinking, and, as he had just discovered, of writing, that you were quite, quite alone? Wasn't talk, intellectual talk as differing from chatter, really just a form of vanity? You wanted a listener, not a talker. Well, if you wrote a book, you had your listeners. It was this confounded book which had made him suddenly critical of Sylvia. From what is day, he thought when I began to write it, and she must have wondered what I was doing, and she seemed to take no interest. From what is day when I told her I had written it, and she said 'Fancy l' I suppose I'm touchy. Is a mother touchy about her child? Or, whatever it looks like, whatever its nature, does she feel an absolute assurance in her heart that it is perfect? One is touchy because one is uncertain, because one wants reassurance. Surely Shakespeare must have felt pretty certain about A Midsummer Night's Dream? Surely Keats wanted nobody to tell him what is Nightingale was good? Or is one always - well, I'm not really a writer, so I don't know. But, Sylvia, you do understand, don't you, that this is my child? It is growing up suddenly. I don't know what will happen, except that I shall never have another. It is my only child. Oh, Sylvia, be tender to it ... And now let's read Raglan again. Anyhow, Raglan likes it. 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" Two People (1932) 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 73 where is strong CHAPTER FIVE where is p align="justify" he opened what is linen-cupboard. Clean clothes airing. Sylvia's pretty things. More coke. What on earth did he want from Sylvia which she didn't give him? Intellectual companionship? Help! Can any one give a man intellectual companionship? Can any other man take his thoughts down your road, hand in hand, his mind ready to diverge with yours, hither or thither, without warning, without question, two minds that think as one? Impossible, surely. Wasn't what is whole joy of thinking, and, as he had just discovered, of writing, that you were quite, quite alone? Wasn't talk, intellectual talk as differing from chatter, really just a form of vanity? You wanted a listener, not a talker. Well, if you wrote a book, you had your listeners. It was this confounded book which had made him suddenly critical of Sylvia. From what is day, he thought when I began to write it, and she must have wondered what I was doing, and she seemed to take no interest. From what is day when I told her I had written it, and she said 'Fancy l' I suppose I'm touchy. Is a mother touchy about her child? Or, whatever it looks like, whatever its nature, does she feel an absolute assurance in her heart that it is perfect? One is touchy because one is uncertain, because one wants reassurance. Surely Shakespeare must have felt pretty certain about A Midsummer Night's Dream? Surely Keats wanted nobody to tell him what is Nightingale was good? Or is one always - well, I'm not really a writer, so I don't know. But, Sylvia, you do understand, don't you, that this is my child? It is growing up suddenly. I don't know what will happen, except that I shall never have another. It is my only child. Oh, Sylvia, be tender to it ... And now let's read Raglan again. Anyhow, Raglan likes it. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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