"
He bade me good morning and went his way, bowed and thoughtful....
He had kept the truth from his mind a long time, but that morning it had
forced its way to him with an aspect that brooked no denial that this
time it was not just changes that were coming in his world, but that all
his world lay open and defenceless, conquered and surrendered, doomed so
far as he could see, root and branch, scale and form alike, to change.
CHAPTER THE THIRD
SOARING
I
For nearly all the time that my uncle was incubating and hatching
Crest Hill I was busy in a little transverse valley between that
great beginning and Lady Grove with more and more costly and ambitious
experiments in aerial navigation. This work was indeed the main
substance of my life through all the great time of the Tono-Bungay
symphony.
I have told already how I came to devote myself to this system of
inquiries, how in a sort of disgust with the common adventure of life
I took up the dropped ends of my college studies, taking them up again
with a man's resolution instead of a boy's ambition.
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