page_11 - vigji/cainjb GitHub Wiki

POV:

  • tense: past
  • gender:
  • species:
  • cues:

Subjects:

  • cues:

Location:

  • cues:

Time:

  • cues: before 22/01/1901

Events:

  • cues:

Sequence:

  • precedes:
  • follows: Notes:

Annotated text:

If Henry had been there he could have told me
what to do. His great voice, tuned and broken
at the capstan bar, would have breezily put me
right. Tears came to my eyes. I was, I supposed,
an emotional old fool. So I came back and
waited in Orchard, it ran through my head,
where he cast up blinded that night, which
were my true friend Ravager, which were
always good to me since we was almost pups,
and never minded of my short legs. Very
emotional. But there was no need for me to
weep just at the end of the second dog, nor
would I. Henry had taught me a little of his
trade, and this, curiously enough, was what had
struck. After all the Grundy Sapphic of
yesterday had described a more universal taking
off in Ireland. I did not quite agree with de
Quincey that murders in Ireland did not count.
But perhaps it was an optimistic memory which
told me that such things used not to happen
when the queer old Dean was alive.

Original page: page_11.pdf

Original text:

If Henry had been there he could have told me
what to do. His great voice, tuned and broken
at the capstan bar, would have breezily put me
right. Tears came to my eyes. I was, I supposed,
an emotional old fool. So I came back and
waited in Orchard, it ran through my head,
where he cast up blinded that night, which
were my true friend Ravager, which were
always good to me since we was almost pups,
and never minded of my short legs. Very
emotional. But there was no need for me to
weep just at the end of the second dog, nor
would I. Henry had taught me a little of his
trade, and this, curiously enough, was what had
struck. After all the Grundy Sapphic of
yesterday had described a more universal taking
off in Ireland. I did not quite agree with de
Quincey that murders in Ireland did not count.
But perhaps it was an optimistic memory which
told me that such things used not to happen
when the queer old Dean was alive.

Italian text:

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