Tales of Space and Time


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hurt him excruciatingly or make him violently sick, how to hit or kick  
vital," how to use glass in one's garments as a club and to spread red  
"
ruin with various domestic implements, how to anticipate and demolish  
your adversary's intentions in other directions; all the pleasant  
devices, in fact, that had grown up among the disinherited of the great  
cities of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, were spread out by a  
gifted exponent for Denton's learning. Blunt's bashfulness fell from  
him as the instruction proceeded, and he developed a certain expert  
dignity, a quality of fatherly consideration. He treated Denton with the  
utmost consideration, only "flicking him up a bit" now and then, to keep  
the interest hot, and roaring with laughter at a happy fluke of Denton's  
that covered his mouth with blood.  
"
I'm always keerless of my mouth," said Blunt, admitting a weakness.  
Always. It don't seem to matter, like, just getting bashed in the  
"
mouth--not if your chin's all right. Tastin' blood does me good. Always.  
But I better not 'it you again."  
Denton went home, to fall asleep exhausted and wake in the small hours  
with aching limbs and all his bruises tingling. Was it worth while that  
he should go on living? He listened to Elizabeth's breathing, and  
remembering that he must have awaked her the previous night, he lay very  
still. He was sick with infinite disgust at the new conditions of his  
life. He hated it all, hated even the genial savage who had protected  
him so generously. The monstrous fraud of civilisation glared stark  
before his eyes; he saw it as a vast lunatic growth, producing a  
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Quick Jump
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