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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Tono Bungay"

"It's--so enormous!"
"Isn't it! And it's all up to nothing. You find chaps keeping grocers'
shops--why the DEVIL, Ponderevo, do they keep grocers' shops? They
all do it very carefully, very steadily, very meanly. You find people
running about and doing the most remarkable things being policemen, for
example, and burglars. They go about these businesses quite gravely and
earnestly. I somehow--can't go about mine. Is there any sense in it at
all--anywhere?"
"There must be sense in it," I said. "We're young."
"We're young--yes. But one must inquire. The grocer's a grocer because,
I suppose, he sees he comes in there. Feels that on the whole it amounts
to a call.... But the bother is I don't see where I come in at all. Do
you?"
"Where you come in?"
"No, where you come in."
"Not exactly, yet," I said. "I want to do some good in the
world--something--something effectual, before I die. I have a sort of
idea my scientific work--I don't know."
"Yes," he mused. "And I've got a sort of idea my sculpture,--but now it
is to come in and WHY,--I've no idea at all.


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