Manchurian Books

Impressions crowd upon one another and
overlap one another; I was presently to fall in love again, to be seized
by a passion to which I still faintly respond, a passion that still
clouds my mind. I came and went between Ealing and my aunt and uncle,
and presently between Effie and clubland, and then between business
and a life of research that became far more continuous, infinitely more
consecutive and memorable than any of these other sets of experiences.
I didn't witness a regular social progress therefore; my aunt and
uncle went up in the world, so far as I was concerned, as if they were
displayed by an early cinematograph, with little jumps and flickers.
As I recall this side of our life, the figure of my round-eyes,
button-nosed, pink-and-white Aunt Susan tends always to the central
position. We drove the car and sustained the car, she sat in it with
a magnificent variety of headgear poised upon her delicate neck,
and always with that faint ghost of a lisp no misspelling can
render--commented on and illuminated the new aspects.


Pages:
377 378 379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401