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

"Tono Bungay"

Full moonlight brought out dimly the lines
of the receding hills, one wave beyond another; far beyond were the
pin-point lights of Leatherhead, and in the foreground the little stage
from which I used to start upon my gliders gleamed like wet steel. The
season must have been high June, for down in the woods that hid the
lights of the Lady Grove windows, I remember the nightingales thrilled
and gurgled....
"We got here, George," said my uncle, ending a long pause. "Didn't I
say?"
"Say!--when?" I asked.
"In that hole in the To'nem Court Road, eh? It's been a Straight Square
Fight, and here we are!"
I nodded.
"'Member me telling you--Tono-Bungay?.... Well.... I'd just that
afternoon thought of it!"
"I've fancied at times;" I admitted.
"It's a great world, George, nowadays, with a fair chance for every
one who lays hold of things. The career ouvert to the Talons--eh?
Tono-Bungay. Think of it! It's a great world and a growing world, and
I'm glad we're in it--and getting a pull. We're getting big people,
George. Things come to us.


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