large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_1_blackwood_cb_64kb_9
large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_1_blackwood_cb_64kb
English
1336
Pretty, she was decidedly not. PRETTY SHE WAS DECIDEDLY NOT
was familiar with the ins and outs of her primitive, utterly un-modern type, it was strikingly clear. To see her there made it impossible to imagine her again in civilisation. I lost all recollection of how she looked in a town. The memory somehow evaporated. This slim creature before me, flitting to and fro with the grace of the woodland life, swift, supple, adroit, on her knees blowing the fire, or stirring the frying-pan through a veil of smoke, suddenly seemed the only way I had ever really seen her. Here she was at home; in London she became some one concealed by clothes, an artificial doll overdressed and moving by clockwork, only a portion of her alive. Here she was alive all over. I forget altogether how she was dressed, just as I forget how any particular tree was dressed, or how the markings ran on any one of the boulders that lay about the Camp. She looked just as wild and natural and untamed as everything else that went to make up the scene, and more than that I cannot say. WO YEARS OF HER LIFE AND WAS FAMILIAR WITH THE INS AND OUTS OF HER PRIMITIVE UTTERLY UNMODERN TYPE IT WAS STRIKINGLY CLEAR TO SEE HER THERE MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE HER AGAIN IN CIVILIZATION I LOST ALL RECOLLECTION OF HOW SHE LOOKED IN A TOWN THE MEMORY SOMEHOW EVAPORATED THIS SLIM CREATURE BEFORE ME FLITTING TO AND FRO WITH THE GRACE OF THE WOODLAND LIFE SWIFT SUPPLE ADROIT ON HER KNEES BLOWING THE FIRE OR STIRRING THE FRYING PAN THROUGH A VEIL OF SMOKE SUDDENLY SEEMED THE ONLY WAY I HAD EVER REALLY SEEN HER HERE SHE WAS AT HOME IN LONDON SHE BECAME SOME ONE CONCEALED BY CLOTHES AN ARTIFICIAL DOLL OVERDRESSED AND MOVING BY CLOCKWORK ONLY A PORTION OF HER ALIVE HERE SHE WAS ALIVE ALL OVER I FORGOT ALTOGETHER HOW SHE WAS DRESSED JUST AS I FORGOT HOW ANY PARTICULAR TREE WAS DRESSED OR HOW THE MARKINGS RAN ON ANY ONE OF THE BOULDERS THAT LAY ABOUT THE CAMP SHE LOOKED JUST AS WILD AND NATURAL AND UNTAMED AS EVERYTHING ELSE THAT WENT TO MAKE UP THE SCENE AND MORE THAN THAT I CANNOT SAY
large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_1_blackwood_cb_64kb
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