J. M. Barrie

Tommy and Grizel


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ALL ALONE

       CHAPTER XXVII

       GRIZEL'S JOURNEY

       CHAPTER XXVIII

       TWO OF THEM

       CHAPTER XXIX

       THE RED LIGHT

       CHAPTER XXX

       THE LITTLE GODS DESERT HIM

       CHAPTER XXXI

       "THE MAN WITH THE GREETIN' EYES"

       CHAPTER XXXII

       TOMMY'S BEST WORK

       CHAPTER XXXIII

       THE LITTLE GODS RETURN WITH A LADY

       CHAPTER XXXIV

       A WAY IS FOUND FOR TOMMY

       CHAPTER XXXV

       THE PERFECT LOVER

      PART I

      CHAPTER I. HOW TOMMY FOUND A WAY II. THE SEARCH FOR THE TREASURE III. SANDYS ON WOMAN IV. GRIZEL OF THE CROOKED SMILE V. THE TOMMY MYTH VI. GHOSTS THAT HAUNT THE DEN VII. THE BEGINNING OF THE DUEL VIII. WHAT GRIZEL'S EYES SAID IX. GALLANT BEHAVIOUR OF T. SANDYS X. GAVINIA ON THE TRACK XI. THE TEA-PARTY XII. IN WHICH A COMEDIAN CHALLENGES TRAGEDY TO BOWLS XIII. LITTLE WELLS OF GLADNESS XIV. ELSPETH XV. BY PROSEN WATER XVI. "HOW COULD YOU HURT YOUR GRIZEL SO!" XVII. HOW TOMMY SAVED THE FLAG

      PART II

      CHAPTER XVIII. THE GIRL SHE HAD BEEN XIX. OF THE CHANGE IN THOMAS XX. A LOVE-LETTER XXI. THE ATTEMPT TO CARRY ELSPETH BY NUMBERS XXII. GRIZEL'S GLORIOUS HOUR XXIII. TOMMY LOSES GRIZEL XXIV. THE MONSTER XXV. MR. T. SANDYS HAS RETURNED TO TOWN XXVI. GRIZEL ALL ALONE XXVII. GRIZEL'S JOURNEY XXVIII. TWO OF THEM XXIX. THE RED LIGHT XXX. THE LITTLE GODS DESERT HIM XXXI. "THE MAN WITH THE GREETIN' EYES" XXXII. TOMMY'S BEST WORK XXXIII. THE LITTLE GODS RETURN WITH A LADY XXXIV. A WAY IS FOUND FOR TOMMY XXXV. THE PERFECT LOVER

       Table of Contents

       PART I And clung to it, his teeth set. "She is standing behind that tree looking at us." She did not look up, she waited. PART II "I sit still by his arm-chair and tell him what is happening to his Grizel." They told Aaron something. "But my friends still call me Mrs. Jerry," she said softly. "I woke up," she said. He heard their seductive voices, they danced around him in numbers.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      O.P. Pym, the colossal Pym, that vast and rolling figure, who never knew what he was to write about until he dipped grandly, an author in such demand that on the foggy evening which starts our story his publishers have had his boots removed lest he slip thoughtlessly round the corner before his work is done, as was the great man's way—shall we begin with him, or with Tommy, who has just arrived in London, carrying his little box and leading a lady by the hand? It was Pym, as we are about to see, who in the beginning held Tommy up to the public gaze, Pym who first noticed his remarkable indifference to female society, Pym who gave him——But alack! does no one remember Pym for himself? Is the king of the Penny Number already no more than a button that once upon a time kept Tommy's person together? And we are at the night when they first met! Let us hasten into Marylebone before little Tommy arrives and Pym is swallowed like an oyster.

      This is the house, 22 Little Owlet Street, Marylebone, but which were his rooms it is less easy to determine, for he was a lodger who flitted placidly from floor to floor according to the state of his finances, carrying his apparel and other belongings in one great armful, and spilling by the way. On this particular evening he was on the second floor front, which had a fireplace in the corner, furniture all his landlady's and mostly horsehair, little to suggest his calling save a noble saucerful of ink, and nothing to draw attention from Pym, who lolled, gross and massive, on a sofa, one leg over the back of it, the other drooping, his arms extended, and his pipe, which he could find nowhere, thrust between the buttons of his waistcoat, an agreeable pipe-rack. He wore a yellow dressing-gown, or could scarcely be said to wear it, for such of it as was not round his neck he had converted into a cushion for his head, which is perhaps the part of him we should have turned to first It was a big round head, the plentiful gray hair in tangles, possibly because in Pym's last flitting the comb had dropped over the banisters; the features were ugly and beyond life-size, yet the forehead had altered little except in colour since the day when he was near being made a fellow of his college; there was sensitiveness left in the thick nose, humour in the eyes, though they so often watered; the face had gone to flabbiness at last, but