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A visit to the Weymouth Sands of John Cowper Powys [ ⇒ continue... ]
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Like that crafty old sea-god, Proteus, the God of all Elementalists, we
ought to cultivate the art of becoming clouds and vapour for our enjoyment,
and then — on the approach of alien selves — hard, round, impenetrable
pebble-stones, at the bottom of a babbling river of propitiation.
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THE STONE
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... Perdita came downstairs.
"Have you got a fairly large pocket, Mr. Muir?" she said.
Magnus stared at her, and very seriously began removing various objects
from his left-hand
pocket to his right.
"Pretty large," he replied. "Is it a present for Mrs.
Cobbold?"
Then, while Melia and Celia looked on in astonishment, she handed him the
stone which
had been in the Jobber's pocket so long.
"No," she said and the words seemed to come to her by some sudden
inspiration. "It's
for my old friend, Mr. Gaul. It will keep the Philosophy of Representation
from blowing
away!"
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