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Page 321

PART III - CHAPTER V
THE DOMINANT MOTIF OF SUFFERING

`Yes, I'm coming,' he answered quite docile.
He seemed to wander about and knock against things as he came. He dropped heavily into bed.
`Are you sleepy now?' I asked.
`I dunno-I shall be directly,' he replied.
'What's up with you?' I asked.
' I dunno,' he answered. ` I am like this sometimes, when there 's nothing I want to do, and nowhere I want to go, and nobody I want to be near. Then you feel so rottenly lonely, Cyril. You feel awful, like a vacuum, with a pressure on you, a sort of pressure of darkness, and you yourself-just nothing, a vacuum-that's what it's like-a little vacuum that's not dark, all loose in the middle of a space of darkness, that 's pressing on you.'
`Good gracious!' I exclaimed, rousing myself in bed. 'That sounds bad!'
He laughed slightly.
`It 's all right,' he said, `it 's only the excitement of London, and that little man in the park, and that woman on the seat-I wonder where she is to-night, poor deviland then Lettie. I seem thrown off my balance.-I think, really, I ought to have made something of myself '
'What?' I asked, as he hesitated.
` I don't know,' he replied slowly, `-a poet or something, like Burns-I don't know. I shall laugh at myself for thinking so, to-morrow. But I am born a generation too soon-I wasn't ripe enough when I came. I wanted something I hadn't got. I'm something short. I'm like corn in a wet harvest-full, but pappy, no good. I s'll rot. I came too soon; or I wanted something that would ha' made me grow fierce. That's why I wanted Lettie-I think. But am I talking damn rot? What am I saying? What are you making me talk for? What are you listening for?'
I rose and went across to him, saying :
` I don't want you to talk ! If you sleep till morning things will look different.'
I sat on his bed and took his hand. He lay quite still.
`I'm only a kid after all, Cyril,' he said, a few moments later.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE `Yes, I'm coming,' he answered quite docile. He seemed to wander about and knock against things as he came. He dropped heavily into bed. `Are you sleepy now?' I asked. `I dunno-I shall be directly,' he replied. 'What's up with you?' I asked. ' I dunno,' he answered. ` I am like this sometimes, when there 's nothing I want to do, and nowhere I want to go, and nobody I want to be near. Then you feel so rottenly lonely, Cyril. You feel awful, like a vacuum, with a pressure on you, a sort of pressure of darkness, and you yourself-just nothing, a vacuum-that's what it's like-a little vacuum that's not dark, all loose in what is middle of a space of darkness, that 's pressing on you.' `Good gracious!' I exclaimed, rousing myself in bed. 'That sounds bad!' He laughed slightly. `It 's all right,' he said, `it 's only what is excitement of London, and that little man in what is park, and that woman on what is seat-I wonder where she is to-night, poor fun and then Lettie. I seem thrown off my balance.-I think, really, I ought to have made something of myself ' 'What?' I asked, as he hesitated. ` I don't know,' he replied slowly, `-a poet or something, like Burns-I don't know. I shall laugh at myself for thinking so, to-morrow. But I am born a generation too soon-I wasn't ripe enough when I came. I wanted something I hadn't got. I'm something short. I'm like corn in a wet harvest-full, but pappy, no good. I s'll rot. I came too soon; or I wanted something that would ha' made me grow fierce. That's why I wanted Lettie-I think. But am I talking damn rot? What am I saying? What are you making me talk for? What are you listening for?' I rose and went across to him, saying : ` I don't want you to talk ! If you sleep till morning things will look different.' I sat on his bed and took his hand. He lay quite still. `I'm only a kid after all, Cyril,' he said, a few moments later. 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 321 where is strong PART III - CHAPTER V what is DOMINANT MOTIF OF SUFFERING where is p align="justify" `Yes, I'm coming,' he answered quite docile. He seemed to wander about and knock against things as he came. He dropped heavily into bed. `Are you sleepy now?' I asked. `I dunno-I shall be directly,' he replied. 'What's up with you?' I asked. ' I dunno,' he answered. ` I am like this sometimes, when there 's nothing I want to do, and nowhere I want to go, and nobody I want to be near. Then you feel so rottenly lonely, Cyril. You feel awful, like a vacuum, with a pressure on you, a sort of pressure of darkness, and you yourself-just nothing, a vacuum-that's what it's like-a little vacuum that's not dark, all loose in what is middle of a space of darkness, that 's pressing on you.' `Good gracious!' I exclaimed, rousing myself in bed. 'That sounds bad!' He laughed slightly. `It 's all right,' he said, `it 's only what is excitement of London, and that little man in what is park, and that woman on what is seat-I wonder where she is to-night, poor fun and then Lettie. I seem thrown off my balance.-I think, really, I ought to have made something of myself ' 'What?' I asked, as he hesitated. ` I don't know,' he replied slowly, `-a poet or something, like Burns-I don't know. I shall laugh at myself for thinking so, to-morrow. But I am born a generation too soon-I wasn't ripe enough when I came. I wanted something I hadn't got. I'm something short. I'm like corn in a wet harvest-full, but pappy, no good. I s'll rot. I came too soon; or I wanted something that would ha' made me grow fierce. That's why I wanted Lettie-I think. But am I talking damn rot? What am I saying? What are you making me talk for? What are you listening for?' I rose and went across to him, saying : ` I don't want you to talk ! If you sleep till morning things will look different.' I sat on his bed and took his hand. He lay quite still. `I'm only a kid after all, Cyril,' he said, a few moments later. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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