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

"Tono Bungay"


I became intensely alert and clear-headed. I held by that branch for a
moment and then looked about me, and caught at another, and then found
myself holding to a practicable fork. I swung forward to that and got a
leg around it below its junction, and so was able presently to clamber
down, climbing very coolly and deliberately. I dropped ten feet or so
from the lowest branch and fell on my feet. "That's all right," I said,
and stared up through the tree to see what I could of the deflated and
crumpled remains that had once been Lord Roberts A festooned on the
branches it had broken. "Gods!" I said, "what a tumble!"
I wiped something that trickled from my face and was shocked to see my
hand covered with blood. I looked at myself and saw what seemed to me
an astonishing quantity of blood running down my arm and shoulder.
I perceived my mouth was full of blood. It's a queer moment when one
realises one is hurt, and perhaps badly hurt, and has still to discover
just how far one is hurt. I explored my face carefully and found
unfamiliar contours on the left side.


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