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

"Tono Bungay"

"Can you carry this bundle?" she asked.
I lifted it.
"No woman ever has respected the law--ever," she said. "It's too
silly.... The things it lets you do! And then pulls you up--like a mad
nurse minding a child."
She carried some rugs for me through the shrubbery in the darkling.
"They'll think we're going mooning," she said, jerking her head at the
household. "I wonder what they make of us--criminals." ... An immense
droning note came as if in answer to that. It startled us both for a
moment. "The dears!" she said. "It's the gong for dinner!... But I wish
I could help little Teddy, George. It's awful to think of him there with
hot eyes, red and dry. And I know--the sight of me makes him feel sore.
Things I said, George. If I could have seen, I'd have let him have an
omnibusful of Scrymgeours. I cut him up. He'd never thought I meant it
before.... I'll help all I can, anyhow."
I turned at something in her voice, and got a moon light gleam of tears
upon her face.
"Could SHE have helped?" she asked abruptly.
"SHE?"
"That woman.


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