tter of fact, I kne man of forty-five, in a grey a bit t. ife, ten all over me. Red face and boiled blue eyes. I kno o tell me. But t struck me, as I gave my dental plate t back into my mout It DOESN’t MAttER. Even false teet matter. I’m fat—yes. I look like a bookie’s unsuccessful broto bed o. I kno. But I tell you I don’t care. I don’t t even to be young again. I only to be alive. And I moment t’s a feeling inside you, a kind of peaceful feeling, and yet it’s like a flame.
Fart t if you didn’t knoep on it. I ead of time on, just t pool, for instance—all tuff t’s in it. Neer- snails, er-beetles, caddis-flies, leec you can only see ery of ter. You could spend a lifetime cen lifetimes, and still you to t one pool. And all t of feeling of ’s t it.
But I do it. At least I t so at t moment. And don’t mistake o begin Cockneys, I’m not soppy about ‘try’. I oo near to it for t. I don’t to stop people living in to matter. Let ‘em live ing t ty could spend tly to ’s only because c in mines and girls are typeers t anyone ever ime to pick a flo to pick flo t’s not t. I get inside me—not often, I admit, but no’s a good feeling to ’s more, so does everybody else, or nearly everybody. It’s just round time, and ’s top firing t macop cever you’re c your breat a bit of peace seep into your bones. No use. e don’t do it. Just keep on he same bloody fooleries.
And t raigo it. treamlined bullets streaming from t t t icularly. I’m too old to fig t everybody. Besides, even if t kind of danger exists, it doesn’t really enter into one’s ts beforeimes already, I’m not friger- isn’t likely to affect me personally. Because to be a political suspect. No one it frigioner plugs you from be matter it frigellectually a good deal dumber t o telling you about, t peace, if you like. But s. And it’s gone for ever if trunc hold of us.
I picked up my bunc t it of my mind all time, after ty years during ten it. And just at t the road.
It broug. I