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Page 319

PART III - CHAPTER V
THE DOMINANT MOTIF OF SUFFERING

music, watching the changing flow of the people. I like to sit a long time by the hollyhocks watching the throng of varied bees which poise and hesitate outside the wild flowers, then swing in with a hum which sets everything aquiver. But still more fascinating it is to watch the come and go of people weaving and intermi,igling in the complex mesh of their intentions, with all the subtle grace and mystery of their moving, shapely bodies.
I sat still, looking out across the amphitheatre. George looked also, but he drank glass after glass of brandy.
' I like to watch the people,' said I.
'Ay-and doesn't it seem an aimless, idiotic businesslook at them!' he replied in tones of contempt. I looked instead at him, in some surprise and resentment. His face was gloomy, stupid and unrelieved. The amount of brandy he had drunk had increased his ill-humour.
`Shall we be going?' I said. I did not want him to get drunk in his present state of mind.
'Ay-in half a minute'; he finished the brandy, and rose. Although he had drunk a good deal, he was quite steady, only there was a disagreeable look always on his face, and his eyes seemed smaller and more glittering than I had seen them. We took a bus to Victoria. He sat swaying on his seat in the dim, clumsy vehicle, saying not a word. In the vast cavern of the station the theatre-goers were hastening, crossing the pale grey strand, small creatures scurrying hither and thither in the space beneath the lonely lamps. As the train crawled over the river we watched the far-flung hoop of diamond lights curving slowly round and striping with bright threads the black water. He sat looking with heavy eyes, seeming to shrink from the enormous unintelligible lettering of the poem of London.
The town was too large for him, he could not take in its immense, its stupendous poetry. What did come home to him was its flagrant discords. The unintelligibility of the vast city made him apprehensive, and the crudity of its big, coarse contrasts wounded him unutterably.
`What is the matter?' I asked him as we went along the ,ilent pavement at Norwood.
`Nothing,' he replied. 'Nothing!' and I did not trouble him further.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE music, watching what is changing flow of what is people. I like to sit a long time by what is hollyhocks watching what is throng of varied bees which poise and hesitate outside what is wild flowers, then swing in with a hum which sets everything aquiver. But still more fascinating it is to watch what is come and go of people weaving and intermi,igling in what is complex mesh of their intentions, with all what is subtle grace and mystery of their moving, shapely bodies. I sat still, looking out across what is amphitheatre. George looked also, but he drank glass after glass of brandy. ' I like to watch what is people,' said I. 'Ay-and doesn't it seem an aimless, idiotic businesslook at them!' he replied in tones of contempt. I looked instead at him, in some surprise and resentment. His face was gloomy, stupid and unrelieved. what is amount of brandy he had drunk had increased his ill-humour. `Shall we be going?' I said. I did not want him to get drunk in his present state of mind. 'Ay-in half a minute'; he finished what is brandy, and rose. Although he had drunk a good deal, he was quite steady, only there was a disagreeable look always on his face, and his eyes seemed smaller and more glittering than I had seen them. We took a bus to Victoria. He sat swaying on his seat in what is dim, clumsy vehicle, saying not a word. In what is vast cavern of what is station what is theatre-goers were hastening, crossing what is pale grey strand, small creatures scurrying hither and thither in what is space beneath what is lonely lamps. As what is train crawled over what is river we watched what is far-flung hoop of diamond lights curving slowly round and striping with bright threads what is black water. He sat looking with heavy eyes, seeming to shrink from what is enormous unintelligible lettering of what is poem of London. what is town was too large for him, he could not take in its immense, its stupendous poetry. What did come home to him was its flagrant discords. what is unintelligibility of what is vast city made him apprehensive, and what is crudity of its big, coarse contrasts wounded him unutterably. `What is what is matter?' I asked him as we went along what is ,ilent pavement at Norwood. `Nothing,' he replied. 'Nothing!' and I did not trouble him further. 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 White Peacock (1906) 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 319 where is strong PART III - CHAPTER V what is DOMINANT MOTIF OF SUFFERING where is p align="justify" music, watching what is changing flow of what is people. I like to sit a long time by what is hollyhocks watching what is throng of varied bees which poise and hesitate outside what is wild flowers, then swing in with a hum which sets everything aquiver. But still more fascinating it is to watch what is come and go of people weaving and intermi,igling in what is complex mesh of their intentions, with all what is subtle grace and mystery of their moving, shapely bodies. I sat still, looking out across what is amphitheatre. George looked also, but he drank glass after glass of brandy. ' I like to watch what is people,' said I. 'Ay-and doesn't it seem an aimless, idiotic businesslook at them!' he replied in tones of contempt. I looked instead at him, in some surprise and resentment. His face was gloomy, stupid and unrelieved. what is amount of brandy he had drunk had increased his ill-humour. `Shall we be going?' I said. I did not want him to get drunk in his present state of mind. 'Ay-in half a minute'; he finished what is brandy, and rose. Although he had drunk a good deal, he was quite steady, only there was a disagreeable look always on his face, and his eyes seemed smaller and more glittering than I had seen them. We took a bus to Victoria. He sat swaying on his seat in what is dim, clumsy vehicle, saying not a word. In what is vast cavern of what is station what is theatre-goers were hastening, crossing what is pale grey strand, small creatures scurrying hither and thither in what is space beneath what is lonely lamps. As what is train crawled over what is river we watched what is far-flung hoop of diamond lights curving slowly round and striping with bright threads what is black water. He sat looking with heavy eyes, seeming to shrink from what is enormous unintelligible lettering of what is poem of London. what is town was too large for him, he could not take in its immense, its stupendous poetry. What did come home to him was its flagrant discords. what is unintelligibility of what is vast city made him apprehensive, and what is crudity of its big, coarse contrasts wounded him unutterably. `What is what is matter?' I asked him as we went along what is ,ilent pavement at Norwood. `Nothing,' he replied. 'Nothing!' and I did not trouble him further. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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