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"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."
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Brenda
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to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how
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you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you?
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with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are
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have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had
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much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both
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impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I
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the sum should be increased to two thousand." "That's quite out of the question. I couldn't begin to afford it." "Well, you know, I have to consider Brenda's interests. She has very little of her own and there will be no more coming to her. My mother's income is an allowance which I pay under my father's will. I shan't be able to give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel.
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me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?"<|quote|>"Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."</|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have
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A Handful Of Dust
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"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"
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Tony Last
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it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know
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did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't
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you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung
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is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and
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anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win,
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"I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times
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the question. I couldn't begin to afford it." "Well, you know, I have to consider Brenda's interests. She has very little of her own and there will be no more coming to her. My mother's income is an allowance which I pay under my father's will. I shan't be able to give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking
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is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..."<|quote|>"And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"</|quote|>"Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, I'm here."
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Brenda
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hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?"
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means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel
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coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver
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Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had
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possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think
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to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck
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own and there will be no more coming to her. My mother's income is an allowance which I pay under my father's will. I shan't be able to give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a
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cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?"<|quote|>"Yes, I'm here."</|quote|>"You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You know it means that?"
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Tony Last
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still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel
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don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been
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"But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the
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* * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in
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ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my
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yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm
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will be no more coming to her. My mother's income is an allowance which I pay under my father's will. I shan't be able to give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and
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not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here."<|quote|>"You know it means that?"</|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."
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Brenda
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"You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what
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still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I
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they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had
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this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right.
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thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months
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fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a
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to her. My mother's income is an allowance which I pay under my father's will. I shan't be able to give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot
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yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?"<|quote|>"Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."</|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You do know just what you are asking?"
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Tony Last
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Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All
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make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted
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I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come
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something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed
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get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she
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at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out
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my father's will. I shan't be able to give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side
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in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult."<|quote|>"You do know just what you are asking?"</|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes... I suppose so."
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Brenda
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just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I
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so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how
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you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was
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are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."
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put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall
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just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea
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give her anything. I am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and
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always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?"<|quote|>"Yes... I suppose so."</|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you
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A Handful Of Dust
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"All right, that's all I wanted to know."
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Tony Last
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asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound...
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know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung
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my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades,
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for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided
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"I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is
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better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's
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am trying to raise everything I can for an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum.
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at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so."<|quote|>"All right, that's all I wanted to know."</|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."
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Brenda
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all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver
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suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the
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means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the
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so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is
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we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."
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The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this
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an expedition to one of the oases in the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that
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I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know."<|quote|>"Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."</|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to
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A Handful Of Dust
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He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.
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No speaker
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you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to
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to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right.
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still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton
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no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you
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idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in
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nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was
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the Libyan desert. This chap Beaver has got practically nothing and doesn't look like earning any. So you see--" "But, my dear Reggie, you know as well as I do that it's out of the question." "It's rather less than a third of your income." "Yes, but almost every penny goes straight back to the estate. Do you realize that Brenda and I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to
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properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off."<|quote|>He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.</|quote|>"Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Well?"
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Reggie St Cloud
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sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her.
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dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm
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mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't
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make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will
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Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the
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said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised
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I together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be
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if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair.<|quote|>"Well?"</|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."
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Tony Last
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expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear
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unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's
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had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I
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me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall
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I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The
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Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."
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together haven't spent half that amount a year on our personal expenses? It's all I can do to keep things going as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat
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Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?"<|quote|>"I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."</|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That's all right, my dear fellow."
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Reggie St Cloud
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seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going
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I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is
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now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If
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"All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any
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for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling
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as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that...
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as it is." "I didn't expect you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great
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to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first."<|quote|>"That's all right, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."
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Tony Last
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all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going
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so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The
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forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I
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to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here,
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don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like
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isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another
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you'd take this line, Tony. I think it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense
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price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"I've decided exactly what's going to happen."</|quote|>"Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Good."
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Reggie St Cloud
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exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to
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my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence
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green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall
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don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my
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doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda
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In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few
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it's extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on
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the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen."<|quote|>"Good."</|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"
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Tony Last
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what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear
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dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you
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sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old
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ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.
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everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much
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fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing
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extremely unreasonable of you. After all, it's absurd to pretend in these days that a single man can't be perfectly comfortable on four thousand a year. It's as much as I've ever had." "It would mean giving up Hetton." "Well, I gave up Brakeleigh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, I never regret it. It was a nasty wrench at the time, of course, old association and everything like that, but I can tell you this, that when the sale was finally through I felt a different man, free to go where I liked..." "But I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered
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understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good."<|quote|>"Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"</|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or
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A Handful Of Dust
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"But look here, my dear fellow."
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Reggie St Cloud
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any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for
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divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to
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the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"
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going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust
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odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this
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be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way
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I don't happen to want to go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably
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in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?"<|quote|>"But look here, my dear fellow."</|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."
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Tony Last
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look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of
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kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that
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and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in
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not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do
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He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business
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idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the
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go anywhere else except Hetton." "There's a lot in what these Labour fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour
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shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow."<|quote|>"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."</|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a
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A Handful Of Dust
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On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *
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No speaker
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Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have
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Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to
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will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they
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isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put
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mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what
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"It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony
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fellows say, you know. Big houses are a thing of the past in England." "Tell me, did Brenda realize when she agreed to this proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting
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this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations."<|quote|>On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *</|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"
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Polly Cockpurse
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* * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I
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Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going
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without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust
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to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how
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armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you
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I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat
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proposal that it meant my leaving Hetton?" "Yes, it was mentioned, I think. I daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into
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everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * *<|quote|>"Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"</|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more
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A Handful Of Dust
|
asked Polly Cockpurse.
|
No speaker
|
to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they
|
have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the
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"Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny
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and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round
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cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I
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she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch
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daresay you'll find it quite easy to sell to a school or something like that. I remember the agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony
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frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?"<|quote|>asked Polly Cockpurse.</|quote|>"Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Veronica.
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No speaker
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papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he
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keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get
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club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"
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away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have
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You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you
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Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening
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agent said when I was trying to get rid of Brakeleigh that it was a pity it wasn't Gothic, because schools and convents always go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.
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no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform,"<|quote|>said Veronica.</|quote|>"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Souki.
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No speaker
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was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to
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it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul
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the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF
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that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much
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exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I
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so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently.
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go for Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel
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for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first,"<|quote|>said Souki.</|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"
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Jenny Abdul Akbar
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telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. *
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mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I
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boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many
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"But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line
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going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."
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The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line
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Gothic. I daresay you'll get a very comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought
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our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki.<|quote|>"It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"</|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *
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No speaker
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like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes
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first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"
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Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm
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night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been
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going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in
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use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day.
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comfortable price and find yourself better off in the end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I
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smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone,"<|quote|>said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *</|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"
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Marjorie
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* * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't
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everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect
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on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have
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the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out
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at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a
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they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the
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end than you are now." "No. It's impossible," said Tony. "You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to
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that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * *<|quote|>"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"</|quote|>said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Marjorie.
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No speaker
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out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said
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"I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass
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"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a
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noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time
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a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to
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say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves.
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"You're making things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for
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to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly,"<|quote|>said Marjorie.</|quote|>"Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Oh, I don't know,"
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Allan
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this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your
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think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put
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monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times.
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John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the
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there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support.
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I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward
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things extremely awkward for everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it
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year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie.<|quote|>"Oh, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls,
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Allan.
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No speaker
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Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of
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of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing
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be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon
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Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way
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She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every
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a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the
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everyone," said Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty
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and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Allan.</|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."
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Allan
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I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF
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pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea
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to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an
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up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going
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both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had
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but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from
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Reggie. "I can't understand why you are taking up this attitude." "What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest
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like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan.<|quote|>"I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."</|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes
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A Handful Of Dust
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CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]
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No speaker
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brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times
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expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a
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telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat.
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would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No,
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If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up
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You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round
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"What is more, I don't believe that Brenda ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best
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been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong."<|quote|>CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]</|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but
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A Handful Of Dust
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"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"
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The Genial Passenger
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SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony.
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thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you
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Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might
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up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."
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shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea.
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hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass
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ever expected or wanted me to agree." "Oh yes, she did, my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"
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of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I]<|quote|>"any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"</|quote|>"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"None, I'm afraid,"
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Tony Last
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the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should
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idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked
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* * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in
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keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger
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seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man
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means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the
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my dear fellow. I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to
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fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?"<|quote|>"None, I'm afraid,"</|quote|>said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships;
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Tony.
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No speaker
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a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you
|
times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great
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do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in
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in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised
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you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken
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don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger
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I assure you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of
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have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid,"<|quote|>said Tony.</|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed
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A Handful Of Dust
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"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."
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Tony Last
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"None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets
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the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea
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Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year.
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papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking
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drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here
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me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water
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you of that." "It's inconceivable." "Well," said Reggie, puffing at his cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come
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for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony.<|quote|>"But I should think you must have walked a great distance."</|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"
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The Genial Passenger
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have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you
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I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business
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don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth
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he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He
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When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led
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know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony
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cigar, "there's more to it than just money. Perhaps I'd better tell you everything. I hadn't meant to. The truth is that Beaver is cutting up nasty. He says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of
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it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance."<|quote|>"Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"</|quote|>"Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table,
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Never before."
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Tony Last
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Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have
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not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the
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round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am
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Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off
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Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the
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up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in
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says he can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast
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did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?"<|quote|>"Never before."</|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"
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The Genial Passenger
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this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals
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of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you
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deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that...
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Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come
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for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between
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receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain
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can't marry Brenda unless she's properly provided for. Not fair on her, he says. I quite see his point in a way." "Yes, I see his point," said Tony. "So what your proposal really amounts to, is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe,
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coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before."<|quote|>"Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"</|quote|>"Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Demerara."
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Tony Last
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what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"
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coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the
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life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well,
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V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by.
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have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them
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forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was
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is that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters,
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had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?"<|quote|>"Demerara."</|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"
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The Genial Passenger
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I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the
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home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for
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She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do
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IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked
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expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the
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glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were
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that I should give up Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of
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* * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara."<|quote|>"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."
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Tony Last
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"Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised
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I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just
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boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling
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[I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea.
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turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above
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the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough
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Hetton in order to buy Beaver for Brenda." "It's not how I should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to
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don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."</|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line
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A Handful Of Dust
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The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.
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No speaker
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am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said
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tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a
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have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and
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"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then
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keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out
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expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the
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should have put it," said Reggie. "Well, I'm not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of
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The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city."<|quote|>The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.</|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters;
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."
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The Genial Passenger
|
was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you
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a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it
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many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly
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think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"
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law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here
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to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to
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not going to and that's the end of it. If that's all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who
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You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed.<|quote|>"Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."</|quote|>"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Tony Last
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were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"
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just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded
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way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every
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soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" ";
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allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than
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you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make
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all you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose
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it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city."<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That _was_ what you said?"
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The Genial Passenger
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looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded
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like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long.
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about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last
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gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and
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to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the
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It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon
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you wanted to say, I may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical
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know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes."<|quote|>"That _was_ what you said?"</|quote|>"Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes."
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Tony Last
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"That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like
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looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I
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you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour
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sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began
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"The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals
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first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat
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may as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice,
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my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."
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The Genial Passenger
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_was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the
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for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order
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see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and
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if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which
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mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line
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"That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish
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as well leave you." "No, it isn't quite all I wanted to say. In fact I think I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which
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sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes."<|quote|>"I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."</|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few
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A Handful Of Dust
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He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying
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No speaker
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another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or
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so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" ";
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truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some
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often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against
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said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself
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going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained
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I must have put things rather badly. It comes from trying to respect people's feelings too much. You see, I wasn't so much asking you to agree to anything as explaining what our side propose to do. I've tried to keep everything on a friendly basis but I see it's not possible. Brenda will ask for alimony of two thousand a year from the Court and on our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been
|
to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner."<|quote|>He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying</|quote|>"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Hullo"
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The Genial Passenger
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to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here
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Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally
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out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud
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like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the
|
must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for
|
away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass
|
our evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded
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at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying<|quote|>"Hullo"</|quote|>or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a
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A Handful Of Dust
|
or
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No speaker
|
nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we
|
the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he
|
a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls,
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you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening
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have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner
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for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of
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evidence we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for
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A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Bit choppy"
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The Genial Passenger
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then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again"
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man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped
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hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily
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said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The
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walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot
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six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows,
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we shall get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer
|
of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or<|quote|>"Bit choppy"</|quote|>or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is
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A Handful Of Dust
|
or
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No speaker
|
saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" ";
|
taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and
|
the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed
|
were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch
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great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea
|
or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at
|
get it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with
|
have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy"<|quote|>or</|quote|>"Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"Here we are again"
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The Genial Passenger
|
"Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped
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to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony
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rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of
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looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here
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distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from
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so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk
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it. I'm sorry you oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near
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to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or<|quote|>"Here we are again"</|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour
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A Handful Of Dust
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"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.
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No speaker
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or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is
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saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well
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every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the
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"Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before
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soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you
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back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were
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oblige me to put it so bluntly." "I hadn't thought of that." "No, nor had we, to be quite frank. It was Beaver's idea." "You seem to have got me in a fairly hopeless position." "It's not how I should have put it." "I should like to make absolutely sure that Brenda is in on this. D'you mind if I ring her up?" "Not at all, my dear fellow. I happen to know she's at Marjorie's to-night." * * * * * "Brenda, this is Tony... I've just been dining with Reggie." "Yes, he said something about it." "He tells me that you are going to sue for alimony. Is that so?" "Tony, don't be so bullying. The lawyers are doing everything. It's no use coming to me." "But did you know that they proposed to ask for two thousand?" "Yes. They did say that. I know it sounds a lot but..." "And you know exactly how my money stands, don't you? You know it means selling Hetton, don't you?... hullo, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here." "You know it means that?" "Tony, don't make me feel a beast. Everything has been so difficult." "You do know just what you are asking?" "Yes... I suppose so." "All right, that's all I wanted to know." "Tony, how odd you sound... don't ring off." He hung up the receiver and went back to the smoking-room. His mind had suddenly become clearer on many points that had puzzled him. A whole Gothic world had come to grief... there was now no armour glittering through the forest glades, no embroidered feet on the green sward; the cream and dappled unicorns had fled... Reggie sat expanded in his chair. "Well?" "I got on to her. You were quite right. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. It seemed so unlikely at first." "That's all right, my dear fellow." "I've decided exactly what's going to happen." "Good." "Brenda is not going to get her divorce. The evidence I provided at Brighton isn't worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team.
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I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again"<|quote|>"; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth.</|quote|>"I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said.
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No speaker
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showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not
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afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is
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out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day
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left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided
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the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you
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his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a
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worth anything. There happens to have been a child there all the time. She slept both nights in the room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They
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livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine
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A Handful Of Dust
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He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.
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No speaker
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cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a
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My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger,
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archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the
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sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well,
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to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest,
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last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled
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room I am supposed to have occupied. If you care to bring the case I shall defend it and win, but I think when you have seen my evidence you will drop it. I am going away for six months or so. When I come back, if she wishes it, I shall divorce Brenda without settlements of any kind. Is that clear?" "But look here, my dear fellow." "Good night. Thank you for the dinner. Good luck to the excavations." On his way out of the club he noticed that John Beaver of Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the
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much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer."<|quote|>He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.</|quote|>"It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his
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A Handful Of Dust
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"It's not much of a boat,"
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The Genial Passenger
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which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting
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over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I
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pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down
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in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the
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was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack
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couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit
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Bratt's Club was up for election. * * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he
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darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library.<|quote|>"It's not much of a boat,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.
|
No speaker
|
not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will
|
constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get
|
electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a
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sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest
|
Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible
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various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and
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* * * * * "Who on earth would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away
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man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.</|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."
|
The Genial Passenger
|
passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and
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a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward
|
coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you
|
told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about
|
captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr
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between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust
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would have expected the old boy to turn up like that?" asked Polly Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was
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conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony.<|quote|>"But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."</|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had
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A Handful Of Dust
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Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.
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No speaker
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we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the
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things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going
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the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to
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Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony.
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him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger
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winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there,
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Cockpurse. "Now I understand why they keep going on in the papers about divorce law reform," said Veronica. "It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with
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to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun."<|quote|>Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.</|quote|>"That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured
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A Handful Of Dust
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"That's all right,"
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The Genial Passenger
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not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're
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a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the
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which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a
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the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not
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flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything.
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sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had
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"It's _too_ monstrous that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of
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took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room.<|quote|>"That's all right,"</|quote|>said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the
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A Handful Of Dust
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said the genial passenger,
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No speaker
|
this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to
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he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he
|
ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded
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night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him
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damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who
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was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One
|
that he should be allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his
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whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right,"<|quote|>said the genial passenger,</|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"
|
The Genial Passenger
|
right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes
|
in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe
|
much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always
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shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was
|
make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors,
|
than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got
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allowed to get away with it." "The mistake they made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the
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three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger,<|quote|>"we're just going down to the bar. You know,"</|quote|>he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said a few minutes later,
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No speaker
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to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you
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passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you
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himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the
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assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he
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He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe
|
in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on
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made was in telling him first," said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a
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day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know,"<|quote|>he said a few minutes later,</|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"
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The Genial Passenger
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said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of
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the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"
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things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name
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bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to
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his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age
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whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the
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said Souki. "It's so like Brenda to trust everyone," said Jenny Abdul Akbar. * * * * * "I do think Tony comes out of this pretty poorly," said Marjorie. "Oh, I don't know," said Allan. "I expect your ass of a brother put the thing wrong." CHAPTER V IN SEARCH OF A CITY [I] "any idea how many times round the deck make a mile?" "None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned
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black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later,<|quote|>"I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"</|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"
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Tony Last
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You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not
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purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to
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Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new
|
told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition.
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here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been
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cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the
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"None, I'm afraid," said Tony. "But I should think you must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he
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quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?"<|quote|>"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"</|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off;
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called
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No speaker
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it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince
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"Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious
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Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in
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this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life
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glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into
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for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion
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must have walked a great distance." "Twenty-two times. One soon gets out of sorts at sea if you're used to an active life. She's not much of a boat. Travel with this line often?" "Never before." "Ah. Thought you might have been in business in the islands. Not many tourists going out this time of year. Just the other way about. All coming home, if you see what I mean. Going far?" "Demerara." "Ah. Looking for minerals perhaps?" "No, to tell you the truth I am looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in
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afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am,"<|quote|>said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called</|quote|>"trade goods" "--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in.
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A Handful Of Dust
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"trade goods"
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Dr Messinger
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of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully
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strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of
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crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box
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the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At
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a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through
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was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the
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looking for a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale
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only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called<|quote|>"trade goods"</|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa
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A Handful Of Dust
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"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.
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No speaker
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Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"
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all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil.
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his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself
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aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to
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and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do
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rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already
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a city." The genial passenger was surprised and then laughed. "Sounded just like you said you were looking for a city." "Yes." "That _was_ what you said?" "Yes." "I thought it sounded like that... well, so long. I must do another few rounds before dinner." He paced off up the deck, straddling slightly in order to keep his balance and occasionally putting out a hand to the rail for support. Regularly every three minutes for the last hour or so, this man had come by. At first Tony had looked up at his approach and then turned away again, out to sea. Presently the man had taken to nodding, then to saying "Hullo" or "Bit choppy" or "Here we are again" "; finally he had stopped and began a conversation. Tony went aft to break this rather embarrassing sequence. He descended the companion way which led to the lower deck. Here, in crates lashed to the side, was a variety of livestock--some stud bulls, a heavily blanketed racehorse, a couple of beagles, being exported to various West Indian islands. Tony threaded a way between them and the hatches to the stern, where he sat against a winch watching the horizon mount above the funnels, then fall until they stood out black against the darkening sky. The pitch was more sensible here than it had been amidships; the animals shifted restlessly in their cramped quarters; the beagles whined intermittently. A lascar took down from a line some washing which had been flapping there all day. The wash of the ship was quickly lost in the high waves. They were steaming westward down the Channel. As it grew to be night, lighthouses appeared flashing from the French coast. Presently a steward walked round the bright, upper deck striking chimes on a gong of brass cylinders, and the genial passenger went below to prepare himself for dinner in hot sea water which splashed from side to side of the bath and dissolved the soap in a thin, sticky scum. He was the only man to dress that evening: Tony sat in the mustering darkness until the second bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of
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bell. Then he left his greatcoat in the cabin and went down to dinner. It was the first evening at sea. Tony sat at the captain's table, but the captain was on the bridge. There were empty chairs on either side of him. It was not rough enough for the fiddles to be out, but the stewards had removed the flower vases and damped the tablecloth to make it adhesive. A coloured archdeacon sat facing him. He ate with great refinement but his black hands looked immense on the wet, whitish cloth. "I'm afraid our table is not showing up very well to-night," he said. "I see you are not a sufferer. My wife is in her cabin. _She_ is a sufferer." He was returning from a Congress, he told Tony. At the top of the stairs was a lounge named the Music and Writing Room. The light here was always subdued, in the day by the stained glass of the windows, at night by pink silk shades which hid the electric candles. Here the passengers assembled for their coffee, sitting on bulky, tapestry-covered chesterfields or on swivel chairs irremovably fastened before the writing tables. Here too the steward for an hour every day presided over the cupboardful of novels which constituted the ship's library. "It's not much of a boat," said the genial passenger, sitting himself beside Tony. "But I expect things will look brighter when we get into the sun." Tony lit a cigar and was told by a steward that he must not smoke in this room. "That's all right," said the genial passenger, "we're just going down to the bar. You know," he said a few minutes later, "I feel I owe you an apology. I thought you were potty just now before dinner. Honestly I did, when you said you were going to Demerara to look for a city. Well, it sounded pretty potty. Then the purser--I'm at his table. Always get the cheeriest crowd at the purser's table _and_ the best attention--the purser told me about you. You're the explorer, aren't you?" "Yes, come to think of it, I suppose I am," said Tony. It did not come easily to him to realize that he was an explorer. It was barely a fortnight ago that he had become one. Even the presence in the hold of two vast crates, bearing his name and labelled _NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE_--crates containing such new and unfamiliar possessions as a medicine chest, an automatic shot-gun, camping equipment, pack saddles, a cinema camera, dynamite, disinfectants, a collapsible canoe, filters, tinned butter and, strangest of all, an assortment of what Dr Messinger called "trade goods"<|quote|>"--failed to convince him fully of the serious nature of his expedition. Dr Messinger had arranged everything. It was he who chose the musical boxes and mechanical mice, the mirrors, combs, perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.</|quote|>"I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"I am going away shortly,"
|
Dr Messinger
|
was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil.
|
uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be
|
the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No,
|
member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever
|
Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition
|
little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained
|
perfumery, pills, fish hooks, axe heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had
|
in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise.<|quote|>"I am going away shortly,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well,
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
said Dr Messinger,
|
No speaker
|
"I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it
|
was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch
|
face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think
|
asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well
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member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas
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he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all
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heads, coloured rockets and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join
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had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger,</|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of
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A Handful Of Dust
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"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"
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Dr Messinger
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away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I
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a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That
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along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you
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were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on
|
some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this
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to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in
|
and rolls of artificial silk, which were packed in the box of "trade goods". And Dr Messinger himself was a new acquaintance who, prostrate now in his bunk with what the Negro clergyman would have called "suffering", that day, for the first time since Tony had met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do
|
some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger,<|quote|>"to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"</|quote|>"No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, I don't think I do."
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Tony Last
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himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man
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chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of
|
shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can
|
his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the
|
club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the
|
from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself
|
met him, seemed entirely human. Tony had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so
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easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?"<|quote|>"No, I don't think I do."</|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."
|
Dr Messinger
|
I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel
|
alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly
|
At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order
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line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little
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dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was
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like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it
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had spent very little of his life abroad. At the age of eighteen, before going to the University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It
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caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do."<|quote|>"You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."</|quote|>"Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Machine guns?"
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Tony Last
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pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one
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robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show,
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demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."
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something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I
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garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a
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to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then
|
University, he had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly
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dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns."<|quote|>"Machine guns?"</|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"
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Dr Messinger
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some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take
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of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's
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ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee,
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his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to
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that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the
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abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I
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had been boarded for the summer with an elderly gentleman near Tours, with the intention that he should learn the language. (...a grey stone house surrounded by vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where
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the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?"<|quote|>"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"</|quote|>"No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No."
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Tony Last
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nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it
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are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not
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don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a
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Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the
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if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville
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palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned
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vines. There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he
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if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."
|
Dr Messinger
|
Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still,
|
not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can
|
think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I
|
Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of
|
he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice
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trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad
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There was a stuffed spaniel in the bathroom. The old man had called it "Stop" because it was chic at that time to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save
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death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No."<|quote|>"Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."</|quote|>"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, I suppose not."
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Tony Last
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shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I
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can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But
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"Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun
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ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's
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young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have
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circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows
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to give dogs an English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse
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his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns."<|quote|>"No, I suppose not."</|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."
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Dr Messinger
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guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his
|
a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the
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one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do
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last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the
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Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They
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of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They
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English name. Tony had bicycled along straight, white roads to visit the chateaux; he carried rolls of bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the
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and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not."<|quote|>"Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."</|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about
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A Handful Of Dust
|
Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.
|
No speaker
|
do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting
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without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you
|
buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations,
|
alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning
|
the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried
|
months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we
|
bread and cold veal tied to the back of the machine, and the soft dust seeped into them through the paper and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were
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arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds."<|quote|>Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.</|quote|>"Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"Ah yes,"
|
Dr Messinger
|
over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place.
|
at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun
|
walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he
|
hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill
|
wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition
|
Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a
|
and gritted against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining.
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no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it.<|quote|>"Ah yes,"</|quote|>he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau,
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said,
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No speaker
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shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect
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Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No,
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a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it
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and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an
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spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general
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Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and
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against his teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some
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tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"
|
Dr Messinger
|
it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there
|
looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very
|
and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running
|
machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the
|
there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their
|
Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was
|
teeth. There were two other English boys there, so he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events
|
Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said,<|quote|>"interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"</|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in
|
A Handful Of Dust
|
"No, I've not been there yet."
|
Tony Last
|
expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight
|
said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do
|
at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then
|
or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd
|
suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders
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feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the
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he had learned little French. One of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind
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there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?"<|quote|>"No, I've not been there yet."</|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every
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A Handful Of Dust
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"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."
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Dr Messinger
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I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The
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you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let
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without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.
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know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I
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uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It
|
mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result
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of them fell in love and the other got drunk for the first time on sparkling Vouvray at a fair that had been held in the town. That evening Tony won a live pigeon at a tombola; he set it free and later saw it being recaptured by the proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners
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That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet."<|quote|>"You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."</|quote|>Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the
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A Handful Of Dust
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Then he continued dreamily,
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No speaker
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a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't
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them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on
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yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up
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do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony
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upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated,
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him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from
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proprietor of the stall with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet
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or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador."<|quote|>Then he continued dreamily,</|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother
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A Handful Of Dust
|
"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."
|
Dr Messinger
|
Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and
|
running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to
|
very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling
|
I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round
|
any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to
|
that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It
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with a butterfly net...) Later he had gone to Central Europe for a few weeks with a friend from Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams;
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took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily,<|quote|>"The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."</|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the
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A Handful Of Dust
|
It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.
|
No speaker
|
to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and
|
on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony
|
Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I
|
Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their
|
fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white
|
few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most
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Balliol. (They had found themselves suddenly rich with the falling mark and had lived in unaccustomed grandeur in the largest hotel suites. Tony had bought a fur for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I
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him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately."<|quote|>It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.</|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. *
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A Handful Of Dust
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"We'd better go up and lunch,"
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Dr Messinger
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editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had
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handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at
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Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold
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yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice
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you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and
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and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition
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for a few shillings and given it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything
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brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly.<|quote|>"We'd better go up and lunch,"</|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas
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A Handful Of Dust
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said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("
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No speaker
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better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very
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of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he
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is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean
|
fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since
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they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and
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he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies
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it to a girl in Munich who spoke no English.) Later still his honeymoon with Brenda in a villa, lent to them, on the Italian Riviera. (...Cypress and olive trees, a domed church half-way down the hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next
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I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch,"<|quote|>said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("</|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I have to be very careful what I eat,"
|
Dr Messinger
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and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold
|
Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They
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scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders
|
believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has
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suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer
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bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the
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hill, between the villa and the harbour, a caf? where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising
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there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. ("<|quote|>"I have to be very careful what I eat,"</|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went
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A Handful Of Dust
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he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.
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No speaker
|
very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been
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(" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the
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better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera.
|
he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of
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without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking
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He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done
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where they sat out in the evening, watching the fishing-boats and the lights reflected in the quiet water, waiting for the sudden agitation of sound and motion as the speed-boat came in. It had been owned by a dashing young official, who called it _Jazz Girl_. He seemed to spend twenty hours a day running in and out of the little harbour...) Once Brenda and he had gone to Le Touquet with Bratt's golf team. That was all. After his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made
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my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat,"<|quote|>he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.</|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft
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A Handful Of Dust
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"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."
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Dr Messinger
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Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the
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was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I
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even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all
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other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will
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the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * *
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One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind.
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his father died he had not left England. They could not easily afford it; it was one of the things they postponed until death duties were paid off; besides that, he was never happy away from Hetton, and Brenda did not like leaving John Andrew. Thus Tony had no very ambitious ideas about travel, and when he decided to go abroad his first act was to call at a tourist agency and come away laden with a sheaf of brightly coloured prospectuses, which advertised commodious cruises among palm trees, Negresses and ruined arches. He was going away because it seemed to be the conduct expected of a husband in his circumstances, because the associations of Hetton were for the time poisoned for him, because he wanted to live for a few months away from people who would know him or Brenda, in places where there was no expectation of meeting her or Beaver or Reggie St Cloud at every corner he frequented, and, with this feeling of evasion dominant in his mind, he took the prospectuses to read at the Greville Club. He had been a member there for some years, but rarely used it; his resignation was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry
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been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him.<|quote|>"...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."</|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was
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A Handful Of Dust
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"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."
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Dr Messinger
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often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose
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of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"
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on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that
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the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join
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was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had
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easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask
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was postponed only by his recurrent omission to cancel the banker's order for his subscription. Now that Bratt's and Brown's were distasteful to him he felt thankful that he had kept on with the Greville. It was a club of intellectual flavour, composed of dons, a few writers and the officials of museums and learned societies. It had a tradition of garrulity, so that he was not surprised when, seated in an armchair and surrounded with his illustrated folders, he was addressed by a member unknown to him who asked if he were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry and velvet, portcullis and bastion, waterfowl on the moat and kingcups along its margin, peacocks trailing their finery across the lawns; high overhead in a sky of sapphire and swansdown silver bells chiming in a turret of alabaster. Days of shadow and exhaustion, salt wind and wet mist, foghorn and the constant groan and creak of straining metal. Then they were clear of it, after the Azores. Awnings were out and passengers moved their chairs to windward. High noon and an even keel; the blue water lapping against the sides of the
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But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it."<|quote|>"I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."</|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield;
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A Handful Of Dust
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"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"
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Tony Last
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race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe
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or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for
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of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make.
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country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *
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to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing
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there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind
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were thinking of going away. He was more surprised when he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry and velvet, portcullis and bastion, waterfowl on the moat and kingcups along its margin, peacocks trailing their finery across the lawns; high overhead in a sky of sapphire and swansdown silver bells chiming in a turret of alabaster. Days of shadow and exhaustion, salt wind and wet mist, foghorn and the constant groan and creak of straining metal. Then they were clear of it, after the Azores. Awnings were out and passengers moved their chairs to windward. High noon and an even keel; the blue water lapping against the sides of the ship, rippling away behind her to the horizon; gramophones and
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"No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory."<|quote|>"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"</|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."
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Dr Messinger
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this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville
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"But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up
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Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah.
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looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony
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of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate
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no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely
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he looked up and studied the questioner. Dr Messinger, though quite young, was bearded, and Tony knew few young men with beards. He was also very small, very sunburned and prematurely bald; the ruddy brown of his face ended abruptly along the line of his forehead, which rose in a pale dome; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles and there was something about his blue serge suit which suggested that the wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry and velvet, portcullis and bastion, waterfowl on the moat and kingcups along its margin, peacocks trailing their finery across the lawns; high overhead in a sky of sapphire and swansdown silver bells chiming in a turret of alabaster. Days of shadow and exhaustion, salt wind and wet mist, foghorn and the constant groan and creak of straining metal. Then they were clear of it, after the Azores. Awnings were out and passengers moved their chairs to windward. High noon and an even keel; the blue water lapping against the sides of the ship, rippling away behind her to the horizon; gramophones and deck tennis; bright arcs of flying fish (" "Look, Ernie, come quick, there's a shark." "That's not a shark, it's a dolphin." "Mr Brink said it was a porpoise." "There he is again. Oh, if I had my camera." "); clear, tranquil water and the regular turn and tread of the screw; there were many hands to caress the beagles as they went loping by. Mr Brink amid laughter
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City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?"<|quote|>"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."</|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding
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A Handful Of Dust
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Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *
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No speaker
|
five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind
|
have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell
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the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed
|
forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing
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me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was
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over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had
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wearer found it uncomfortable. Tony admitted that he was considering taking a cruise. "I am going away shortly," said Dr Messinger, "to Brazil. At least it may be Brazil or Dutch Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry and velvet, portcullis and bastion, waterfowl on the moat and kingcups along its margin, peacocks trailing their finery across the lawns; high overhead in a sky of sapphire and swansdown silver bells chiming in a turret of alabaster. Days of shadow and exhaustion, salt wind and wet mist, foghorn and the constant groan and creak of straining metal. Then they were clear of it, after the Azores. Awnings were out and passengers moved their chairs to windward. High noon and an even keel; the blue water lapping against the sides of the ship, rippling away behind her to the horizon; gramophones and deck tennis; bright arcs of flying fish (" "Look, Ernie, come quick, there's a shark." "That's not a shark, it's a dolphin." "Mr Brink said it was a porpoise." "There he is again. Oh, if I had my camera." "); clear, tranquil water and the regular turn and tread of the screw; there were many hands to caress the beagles as they went loping by. Mr Brink amid laughter suggested that he should exercise the racehorse, or, with a further burst of invention, the bull. Mr Brink sat at the purser's table with the cheery crowd. Dr Messinger left his
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I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..."<|quote|>Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *</|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?" "No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke
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A Handful Of Dust
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"Done much of that kind of thing?"
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The Genial Passenger
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* * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the
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Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first
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Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the
|
"Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area
|
looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles,
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him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck
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Guiana. One cannot tell. The frontier has never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry and velvet, portcullis and bastion, waterfowl on the moat and kingcups along its margin, peacocks trailing their finery across the lawns; high overhead in a sky of sapphire and swansdown silver bells chiming in a turret of alabaster. Days of shadow and exhaustion, salt wind and wet mist, foghorn and the constant groan and creak of straining metal. Then they were clear of it, after the Azores. Awnings were out and passengers moved their chairs to windward. High noon and an even keel; the blue water lapping against the sides of the ship, rippling away behind her to the horizon; gramophones and deck tennis; bright arcs of flying fish (" "Look, Ernie, come quick, there's a shark." "That's not a shark, it's a dolphin." "Mr Brink said it was a porpoise." "There he is again. Oh, if I had my camera." "); clear, tranquil water and the regular turn and tread of the screw; there were many hands to caress the beagles as they went loping by. Mr Brink amid laughter suggested that he should exercise the racehorse, or, with a further burst of invention, the bull. Mr Brink sat at the purser's table with the cheery crowd. Dr Messinger left his cabin and appeared on deck and in
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go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * *<|quote|>"Done much of that kind of thing?"</|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time." "Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards
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A Handful Of Dust
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"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."
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Tony Last
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of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's
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* * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds,"
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civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck.
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different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long,
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I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton,
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continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their
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never been demarcated. I ought to have started last week, only my plans were upset. Do you by any chance know a Nicaraguan calling himself alternately Ponsonby and FitzClarence?" "No, I don't think I do." "You are fortunate. That man has just robbed me of two hundred pounds and some machine guns." "Machine guns?" "Yes, I travel with one or two, mostly for show, you know, or for trade, and they are not easy to buy nowadays. Have you ever tried?" "No." "Well you can take it from me that it's not easy. You can't just walk into a shop and order machine guns." "No, I suppose not." "Still, at a pinch I can do without them. But I can't do without two hundred pounds." Tony had, open on his knee, a photograph of the harbour at Agadir. Dr Messinger looked over his shoulder at it. "Ah yes," he said, "interesting little place. I expect you know Zingermaun there?" "No, I've not been there yet." "You'd like him--a very straight fellow. He used to do quite a lot, selling ammunition to the Atlas caids before the pacification. Of course it was easy money with the capitulations, but he did it better than most of them. I believe he's running a restaurant now in Mogador." Then he continued dreamily, "The pity is I can't let the R.G.S. in on this expedition. I've got to find the money privately." It was one o'clock and the room was beginning to fill up; an Egyptologist was exhibiting a handkerchief-ful of scarabs to the editor of a church weekly. "We'd better go up and lunch," said Dr Messinger. Tony had not intended to lunch at the Greville but there was something compelling about the invitation; moreover, he had no other engagement. Dr Messinger lunched off apples and a rice pudding. (" "I have to be very careful what I eat," he said.) Tony ate cold steak and kidney pie. They sat at a window in the big dining-room upstairs. The places round them were soon filled with members, who even carried the tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck lay in long chairs on the sheltered side, pensive, wrapped in tartan rugs. Dr Messinger kept to his cabin. Tony went to see him and found him torpid, for he was taking large doses of chloral. Towards evening the wind freshened and by dinner-time was blowing hard; portholes were screwed up and all destructible objects disposed on the cabin floors; a sudden roll broke a dozen coffee cups in the music and reading room. That night there was little sleep for anyone on board; the plating creaked, luggage shifted from wall to wall. Tony wedged himself firm in his bunk with the lifebelt and thought of the City. ...Carpet and canopy, tapestry and velvet, portcullis and bastion, waterfowl on the moat and kingcups along its margin, peacocks trailing their finery across the lawns; high overhead in a sky of sapphire and swansdown silver bells chiming in a turret of alabaster. Days of shadow and exhaustion, salt wind and wet mist, foghorn and the constant groan and creak of straining metal. Then they were clear of it, after the Azores. Awnings were out and passengers moved their chairs to windward. High noon and an even keel; the blue water lapping against the sides of the ship, rippling away behind her to the horizon; gramophones and deck tennis; bright arcs of flying fish (" "Look, Ernie, come quick, there's a shark." "That's not a shark, it's a dolphin." "Mr Brink said it was a porpoise." "There he is again. Oh, if I had my camera." "); clear, tranquil water and the regular turn and tread of the screw; there were many hands to caress the beagles as they went loping by. Mr Brink amid laughter suggested that he should exercise the racehorse, or, with a further burst of invention, the bull. Mr Brink sat at the purser's table with the cheery crowd. Dr Messinger left his cabin and appeared on deck and in the dining-saloon. So did the wife of the archdeacon; she was
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tradition of general conversation so far as to lean back in their chairs and chat over their shoulders from table to table--a practice which greatly hindered the already imperfect service. But Tony remained oblivious to all that was said, absorbed in what Dr Messinger was telling him. "...You see, there has been a continuous tradition about the City since the first explorers of the sixteenth century. It has been variously allocated, sometimes down in Matto Grosso, sometimes on the upper Orinoco in what is now Venezuela. I myself used to think it lay somewhere on the Uraricuera. I was out there last year and it was then that I established contact with the Pie-wie Indians; no white man had ever visited them and got out alive. And it was from the Pie-wies that I learned where to look. None of them had ever visited the City, of course, but they _knew about it_. Every Indian between Ciudad Bolivar and Para knows about it. But they won't talk. Queer people. But I became blood-brother with a Pie-wie--interesting ceremony. They buried me up to the neck in mud and all the women of the tribe spat on my head. Then we ate a toad and snake and a beetle and after that I was blood-brother--well, he told me that the City lies between the head waters of the Courantyne and the Takutu. There's a vast track of unexplored country there. I've often thought of visiting it." "I've been looking up the historical side too, and I more or less know how the City got there. It was the result of a migration from Peru at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the Incas were at the height of their power. It is mentioned in all the early Spanish documents as a popular legend. One of the younger princes rebelled and led his people off into the forest. Most of the tribes had a tradition in one form or another of a strange race passing through their territory." "But what do you suppose this city will be like?" "Impossible to say. Every tribe has a different word for it. The Pie-wies call it the 'Shining' or 'Glittering', the Arekuna the 'Many Watered', the Patamonas the 'Bright Feathered', the Warau, oddly enough, use the same word for it that they use for a kind of aromatic jam they make. Of course, one can't tell how a civilization may have developed or degenerated in five hundred years of isolation..." Before Tony left the Greville that day, he tore up his sheaf of cruise prospectuses, for he had arranged to join Dr Messinger in his expedition. * * * * * "Done much of that kind of thing?"<|quote|>"No, to tell you the truth it is the first time."</|quote|>"Ah. Well, I daresay it's more interesting than it sounds," conceded the genial passenger, "else people wouldn't do it so much." The ship, so far as any consideration of comfort had contributed to her design, was planned for the tropics. It was slightly colder in the smoking-room than on deck. Tony went to his cabin and retrieved his cap and greatcoat; then he went aft again, to the place where he had sat before dinner. It was a starless night and nothing was visible beyond the small luminous area round the ship, save for a single lighthouse that flashed short-long, short-long, far away on the port bow. The crests of the waves caught the reflection from the promenade deck and shone for a moment before plunging away into the black depths behind. The beagles were awake, whining. For some days now Tony had been thoughtless about the events of the immediate past. His mind was occupied with the City, the Shining, the Many Watered, the Bright Feathered, the Aromatic Jam. He had a clear picture of it in his mind. It was Gothic in character, all vanes and pinnacles, gargoyles, battlements, groining and tracery, pavilions and terraces, a transfigured Hetton, pennons and banners floating on the sweet breeze, everything luminous and translucent; a coral citadel crowning a green hill-top sown with daisies, among groves and streams; a tapestry landscape filled with heraldic and fabulous animals and symmetrical, disproportionate blossom. The ship tossed and tunnelled through the dark waters towards this radiant sanctuary. "I wonder if anyone is doing anything about those dogs," said the genial passenger, arriving at his elbow. "I'll ask the purser to-morrow. We might exercise them a bit. Kind of mournful the way they go on." * * * * * Next day they were in the Atlantic. Ponderous waves rising over murky, opaque depths. Dappled with foam at the crests, like downland, where on the high, exposed places snow has survived the thaw. Lead-grey and slate in the sun, olive, field blue and khaki like the uniforms of a battlefield; the sky overhead was neutral and steely with swollen clouds scudding across it, affording rare half-hours of sunlight. The masts swung slowly across this sky and the bows heaved and wallowed below the horizon. The man who had made friends with Tony paraded the deck with the two beagles. They strained at the end of their chains, sniffing the scuppers; the man lurched behind them unsteadily. He wore a pair of race glasses with which he occasionally surveyed the seas; he offered them to Tony whenever they passed each other. "Been talking to the wireless operator," he said. "We ought to pass quite near the Yarmouth Castle at about eleven." Few of the passengers were on their feet. Those who had come on deck
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A Handful Of Dust
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