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Page 163

DROMENON

began, after which the cathedral would be locked up for the night. I did not want to ask any favor of the Dean; indeed, I understood he had resented the learned boycott so much that he might well have refused it. I would enter as a stranger within his gates. The whole visit opened with becoming drabness. In a last dribble of market-town passengers, I went down the small platform, past the tired little engine which had come to its daily standstill, confronting with its buffers those terminus buffers which always have the look of termination without finality. "This is the end," they seem to indicate, "not because it is the goal, but because there's just nothing beyond worth going further for:" Even Ulysses, I reflected, would have turned back here, as at the barrier I gave up the outward half of my return ticket. I remember actually feeling a queer gleam of relief that I had a return. Think what it would mean if, instead of being an elderly man of active leisure, I had been a poor young tutor coming down here to be buried alive in this dismal little country corner "where all things are forgotten"-even the few that have ever been known.
Certainly, coming out from the train hutch in which we had been detrained, one felt all one's forebodings had been fulfilled. The day was one of those dismal western days which attain to a neutrality that is positively dreadful. The light was gray, shed or, rather, exuded from a sky which gave no shadows. And this perfectly dull illumination showed a scene that certainly deserved no better rendering-an area wide but not spacious had around its edge houses of weathered stucco, or gray-yellow stockbrick and one or two of a stone which managed to look as though it were a blend

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE began, after which what is cathedral would be locked up for what is night. I did not want to ask any favor of what is Dean; indeed, I understood he had resented what is learned boycott so much that he might well have refused it. I would enter as a stranger within his gates. what is whole what is opened with becoming drabness. In a last dribble of market-town passengers, I went down what is small platform, past what is tired little engine which had come to its daily standstill, confronting with its buffers those terminus buffers which always have what is look of termination without finality. "This is what is end," they seem to indicate, "not because it is what is goal, but because there's just nothing beyond worth going further for:" Even Ulysses, I reflected, would have turned back here, as at what is barrier I gave up what is outward half of my return ticket. I remember actually feeling a queer gleam of relief that I had a return. Think what it would mean if, instead of being an elderly man of active leisure, I had been a poor young tutor coming down here to be buried alive in this dismal little country corner "where all things are forgotten"-even what is few that have ever been known. Certainly, coming out from what is train hutch in which we had been detrained, one felt all one's forebodings had been fulfilled. what is day was one of those dismal western days which attain to a neutrality that is positively dreadful. what is light was gray, shed or, rather, exuded from a sky which gave no shadows. And this perfectly dull illumination showed a scene that certainly deserved no better rendering-an area wide but not spacious had around its edge houses of weathered stucco, or gray-yellow stockbrick and one or two of a stone which managed to look as though it were a blend 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" The Great Fog (1943) 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 163 where is strong DROMENON where is p align="justify" began, after which what is cathedral would be locked up for what is night. I did not want to ask any favor of what is Dean; indeed, I understood he had resented what is learned boycott so much that he might well have refused it. I would enter as a stranger within his gates. what is whole what is opened with becoming drabness. In a last dribble of market-town passengers, I went down what is small platform, past what is tired little engine which had come to its daily standstill, confronting with its buffers those terminus buffers which always have what is look of termination without finality. "This is what is end," they seem to indicate, "not because it is what is goal, but because there's just nothing beyond worth going further for:" Even Ulysses, I reflected, would have turned back here, as at what is barrier I gave up what is outward half of my return ticket. I remember actually feeling a queer gleam of relief that I had a return. Think what it would mean if, instead of being an elderly man of active leisure, I had been a poor young tutor coming down here to be buried alive in this dismal little country corner "where all things are forgotten"-even what is few that have ever been known. Certainly, coming out from what is train hutch in which we had been detrained, one felt all one's forebodings had been fulfilled. The day was one of those dismal western days which attain to a neutrality that is positively dreadful. what is light was gray, shed or, rather, exuded from a sky which gave no shadows. And this perfectly dull illumination showed a scene that certainly deserved no better rendering-an area wide but not spacious had around its edge houses of weathered stucco, or gray-yellow stockbrick and one or two of a stone which managed to look as though it were a blend where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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