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

"Tono Bungay"

Then wind and
rain close in on us again.
You must not imagine they were ordinary days, days, I mean, of an
average length; they were not so much days as long damp slabs of time
that stretched each one to the horizon, and much of that length was
night. One paraded the staggering deck in a borrowed sou'-wester hour
after hour in the chilly, windy, splashing and spitting darkness, or
sat in the cabin, bored and ill, and looked at the faces of those
inseparable companions by the help of a lamp that gave smell rather than
light. Then one would see going up, up, up, and then sinking down, down,
down, Pollack, extinct pipe in mouth, humorously observant, bringing his
mind slowly to the seventy-seventh decision that the captain was a Card,
while the words flowed from the latter in a nimble incessant good.
"Dis England eet is not a country aristocratic, no! Eet is a glorified
bourgeoisie! Eet is plutocratic. In England dere is no aristocracy since
de Wars of Roses. In the rest of Europe east of the Latins, yes; in
England, no.
"Eet is all middle-class, youra England.


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