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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"The Crown of Life"


"I shouldn't wonder if you generalise from one or two?" said his
hostess, letting her eyelids droop as she observed him lazily. "Do
you know Russian women as well?"
By begging for another cup of tea, and adding a remark on some other
subject, Piers evaded this question.
"And what are you going to do?" asked Mrs. Borisoff "Stay here, and
write more articles?"
"I'm going to England in a few days for the summer."
"That's what I think I shall do. But I don't know what part to go
to. Advise me, can you? Seaside--no; I don't like the seaside. Do
you notice how people--our kind of people, I mean--are losing
their taste for it in England? It's partly, I suppose, because of
the excursion train. One doesn't grudge the crowd its excursion
train, but it's so much nicer to imagine their blessedness than to
see it. Or are you for the other point of view?"
Otway gave an expressive look.
"That's right. Oh, the sham philanthropic talk that goes on in
England! How it relieves one to say flatly that one does _not_ love
the multitude!--No seaside, then. Lakes--no; Wales--no;
Highlands--no. Isn't there some part of England one would like if
one discovered it?"
"Do you want solitude?" asked Piers, becoming more interested.
"Solitude? H'm!" She handed a box of cigarettes, and herself took
one. "Yes, solitude. I shall try to get Miss Derwent to come for a
time. New Forest--no, Please, please, do suggest! I'm nervous;
your silence teases me.


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