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

"Tono Bungay"

He spoke at
last in a reasonable voice. "If I did," he said, "he'd kick up a fuss.
It's no good, even if I wanted to. Everybody's watching the place. If I
was to stop building we'd be down in a week."
He had an idea. "I wish I could do something to start a strike or
something. No such luck. Treat those workmen a sight too well. No, sink
or swim, Crest Hill goes on until we're under water."
I began to ask questions and irritated him instantly.
"Oh, dash these explanations, George!" he cried; "You only make things
look rottener than they are. It's your way. It isn't a case of figures.
We're all right--there's only one thing we got to do."
"Yes?"
"Show value, George. That's where this quap comes in; that's why I fell
in so readily with what you brought to me week before last. Here we are,
we got our option on the perfect filament, and all we want's canadium.
Nobody knows there's more canadium in the world than will go on the
edge of a sixpence except me and you. Nobody has an idee the perfect
filament's more than just a bit of theorising.


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