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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-The Time Machine by H.G. Wells


49

They were becoming reacquainted with Fear. And suddenly there
came into my head the memory of the meat I had seen in the
Under-world. It seemed odd how it floated into my mind: not
stirred up as it were by the current of my meditations, but coming
in almost like a question from outside. I tried to recall the form of
it. I had a vague sense of something familiar, but I could not tell
what it was at the time.

‘Still, however helpless the little people in the presence of their
mysterious Fear, I was differently constituted. I came out of this
age of ours, this ripe prime of the human race, when Fear does not
paralyze and mystery has lost its terrors. I at least would defend
myself. Without further delay I determined to make myself arms
and a fastness where I might sleep. With that refuge as a base, I
could face this strange world with some of that confidence I had
lost in realizing to what creatures night by night I lay exposed. I
felt I could never sleep again until my bed was secure from them. I
shuddered with horror to think how they must already have
examined me.

‘I wandered during the afternoon along the valley of the Thames,
but found nothing that commended itself to my mind as
inaccessible. All the buildings and trees seemed easily practicable
to such dexterous climbers as the Morlocks, to judge by their wells,
must be. Then the tall pinnacles of the Palace of Green Porcelain
and the polished gleam of its walls came back to my memory; and
in the evening, taking Weena like a child upon my shoulder, I went
up the hills towards the south-west. The distance, I had reckoned,
was seven or eight miles, but it must have been nearer eighteen. I
had first seen the place on a moist afternoon when distances are
deceptively diminished. In addition, the heel of one of my shoes
was loose, and a nail was working through the sole-they were
comfortable old shoes I wore about indoors-so that I was lame.
And it was already long past sunset when I came in sight of the
palace, silhouetted black against the pale yellow of the sky.
‘Weena had been hugely delighted when I began to carry her, but
after a time she desired me to let her down, and ran along by the
side of me, occasionally darting off on either hand to pick flowers
to stick in my pockets. My pockets had always puzzled Weena, but
at the last she had concluded that they were an eccentric kind of
vase for floral decoration. At least she utilized them for that
purpose. And that reminds me! In changing my jacket I found...’
The Time Traveller paused, put his hand into his pocket, and
silently placed two withered flowers, not unlike very large white
mallows, upon the little table.

Then he resumed his narrative.
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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-The Time Machine by H.G. Wells



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