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

"Twelve Stories and a Dream"

The whole island was awhirl
with rumours; it was said, again and again, that fighting had begun.
I had not expected this. I had seen so little of the life of pleasure
that I had failed to reckon with this violence of the amateurs.
And as for me, I was out of it. I was like a man who might have
prevented the firing of a magazine. The time had gone. I was no one;
the vainest stripling with a badge counted for more than I. The crowd
jostled us and bawled in our ears; that accursed song deafened us;
a woman shrieked at my lady because no badge was on her, and we
two went back to our own place again, ruffled and insulted--
my lady white and silent, and I aquiver with rage. So furious was I,
I could have quarrelled with her if I could have found one shade
of accusation in her eyes.
"All my magnificence had gone from me. I walked up and down our rock
cell, and outside was the darkling sea and a light to the southward
that flared and passed and came again.
"'We must get out of this place,' I said over and over. 'I have
made my choice, and I will have no hand in these troubles. I will
have nothing of this war. We have taken our lives out of all these
things.


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