By D. H. Lawrence
In keeping with the one authoritative surviving manuscript of the 1921 novel, this Cambridge variation restores many passages censored from earlier versions in its depiction of Everyman's quest for a significant lifestyles.
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Extra info for Aaron's Rod (Penguin Twentieth-Century Classics)
The Barcelona she encountered on her return was not the place she had left behind. She discovered a city of shadows, one no longer inhabited by my father, although every corner was haunted by his memory. As if all that misery were not enough, she insisted on hiring someone to find out exactly what had happened to him. After months of investigation, all the detective was able to recover was a broken wristwatch and the name of the man who had killed my father in the moat of Montjuic Castle. His name was Fumero, Javier Fumero.
Despite his pretentious facade and his verbosity, Barcelo could smell good prey the way a wolf scents blood. 'Let me see,' he said, feigning disinterest. ' I glanced at my father. He nodded approvingly. Without further ado, I handed Barcelo the book. The bookseller greeted it with expert hands. His pianist's fingers quickly explored its texture, consistency, and condition. He located the page with the publication and printer's notices and studied it with Holmesian flair. The rest of us watched in silence, as if awaiting a miracle, or permission to breathe again.
Asked the bookseller. ' I nodded on both counts and accepted the chair Barcelo offered me next to him and his mysterious companion. For a while the bookseller only smiled placidly, taking no notice of my presence. I soon abandoned all hope of being introduced to the lady in white, whoever she might be. Barcelo behaved as if she wasn't there and neither of us could see her. I cast a sidelong glance at her, afraid of meeting her eyes, which stared vacantly into the distance. The skin on her face and arms was pale, almost translucent.