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The piano was indeed hopelessly out of order, but Mottram managed to bring the rebellious notes into a sort of agreement, and there rose from the ragged keyboard something that might once have been the ghost of a popular music-hall song. The men in the long chairs turned with evident interest as Mottram banged the more lustily. |
This is from “At the End of the Passage” collected in Mine Own People (USA) and in Life’s Handicap (UK) both in 1891. A harrowing tale of the loneliness and desperation incurred by men working in the remote stations of the Raj, and the all to easy descent into hallucination and more… |
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