across a book like t? Anoton Mackenzie’s Sinister Street. It in Loory, parts of started you t story of D. . I don’t remember t. It ory about a German conscript ification and ts caug puzzled me a lot. I couldn’t make out , and yet it left me I’d like to read some ot.
ell, for several montite for books t like p. It real go-in at reading t I’d to set about getting to buy t’s interesting, I t s Mudie’s and times Book Club er I learned of tence of lending libraries and took out a subscription at Mudie’s and anot a library in Bristol. And year or so! ells, Conrad, Kipling, Galst Ridge, Oliver Onions, Compton Mackenzie, on Merriman, Maurice Baring, Stept, Antepratton Porter. list are knoo you, I ook seriously in tten no at t’s got in among a s revelled in ter a bit, of course, I greinguisripe and not-tripe. I got of , and I got a lot of kick out of Oscar ilde’s Dorian Gray and Stevenson’s Neers and liked it, and I tried several of stuck about Ibsen, in Nor’s always raining.
It time it struck me as queer. I left, I could already distinguist and Elinor Glyn, and yet it o ter-grocer. If I tot up t, I suppose I must admit t t any rate t year of reading novels ion, in t I’ve ever did certain to my mind. It gave me an attitude, a kind of questioning attitude, and t really c so mucten meaninglessness of the life I was leading.
It really time in 1918. ting beside tove in an Army , reading novels, and a feing t, o t small coke into a furnace. I aken ttle bolt- didn’t exist. At times I got into a panic and made sure t me and dig me out, but it never ty grey paper, came in once a mont t t on. t as muc as a lunatic’s dream. t of all to leave me hing.
I tten corners. By time literally millions of people uck up backers of one kind and anotting as t people ten tries ypists all draly all to pile up mounds of paper. Nobody believed trocity stories and t little Belgium stuff any longer. t ted taff as mental defectives. A sort of even got a