People, very unrepresentative people, people just ascasual as people in the real world, come into personal relationswith us, and little threads of private and immediate interest spinthemselves rapidly into a thickening grey veil across the generalview. I lose the comprehensive interrogation of my first arrival; Ifind myself interested in the grain of the wood I work, in birdsamong the tree branches, in little irrelevant things, and it is onlynow and then that I get fairly back to the mood that takes... read more
