page_18 - vigji/cainjb GitHub Wiki

POV:

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

Subjects:

  • cues: another person, "really wicked person"

Location:

  • cues:

Time:

  • cues:

Events:

  • cues:

Sequence:

  • precedes:
  • follows: Notes:
  • Homonym says: Course of soup, then fish, then birds: Paul? (Corinthians 15:39 All flesh is not the same flesh, but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of animals, another of fish, and another of birds.)
  • typo dishes -> fishes?

Annotated text:

I discussed certain passages with the man, and
he was too guardedly ignorant in his
contributions to our discussion. The chapter on
the fall of the rupee you may omit. It is
somewhat too sensational. Even these metallic
problems have their melodramatic side. But
would I have called him to me had it not been
for money? Many a truth had been spoken, I
reflected, as an epigram. Like something very
far away in a great disused house, that may to
the aching ear seem to be lifting a flag in some
disused second cellar, my suspicion made an
escaping movement, a movement of birth in a
blank and distant subterrene of my mind. As I
looked at him I realised that no single dish
would satisfy the man. He would be, even to
start with, for a course of soup, and then
another of dishes, as my namesake said, and
another of birds. I have never met any really
wicked person before. I feel rather frightened. I
am so afraid he will look just like every one
else.

Original page: page_18.pdf

Original text:

I discussed certain passages with the man, and
he was too guardedly ignorant in his
contributions to our discussion. The chapter on
the fall of the rupee you may omit. It is
somewhat too sensational. Even these metallic
problems have their melodramatic side. But
would I have called him to me had it not been
for money? Many a truth had been spoken, I
reflected, as an epigram. Like something very
far away in a great disused house, that may to
the aching ear seem to be lifting a flag in some
disused second cellar, my suspicion made an
escaping movement, a movement of birth in a
blank and distant subterrene of my mind. As I
looked at him I realised that no single dish
would satisfy the man. He would be, even to
start with, for a course of soup, and then
another of dishes, as my namesake said, and
another of birds. I have never met any really
wicked person before. I feel rather frightened. I
am so afraid he will look just like every one
else.

Italian text:

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