ng.

    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 as far as t ion to say t turned people into  it did turn to nis for time being. People o t pudding urned into Bols by t s  been for t kno somet from  o kill you it o start you ter t unspeakable idiotic mess you couldn’t go on regarding society as someternal and unquestionable, like a pyramid. You kne  a balls-up.