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Arch community songster brave new world12/17/2023 ![]() Pale, distraught, abject and agitated, he moved among his guests, stammering incoherent apologies, assuring them that next time the Savage would certainly be there, begging them to sit down and take a carotene sandwich, a slice of Vitamin A pate, a glass of champagne-surrogate. Pierced by every word that was spoken, the tight balloon of Bernard's happy self-confidence was leaking from a thousand wounds. "It may interest you to know that our ex-Director was on the point of transferring him to Iceland." "Too bad, too bad," said Henry Foster, sympathizing with the Arch-Community-Songster. She said to my friend, and my friend said to me. Some one I know knew some one who was working in the Embryo Store at the time. "Yes," came the voice of Fanny Crowne, "it's absolutely true about the alcohol. "It really is a bit too thick," the Head Mistress of Eton was saying to the Director of Crematoria and Phosphorus Reclamation. And at once this possibility became an established certainty: John had refused to come because he didn't like her. "Perhaps it's because he doesn't like me," she said to herself. Lenina suddenly felt all the sensations normally experienced at the beginning of a Violent Passion Surrogate treatment-a sense of dreadful emptiness, a breathless apprehension, a nausea. It was at this moment that Bernard had made his announcement the Savage wasn't coming to the party. And yet I'm absolutely sure he really does rather like me. ![]() "Why was he so strange the other night, after the feelies? So queer. What would he say? The blood had rushed to her cheeks. "In a few minutes," she had said to herself, as she entered the room, "I shall be seeing him, talking to him, telling him" (for she had come with her mind made up) "that I like him-more than anybody I've ever known. She had come to the party filled with a strange feeling of anxious exultation. Pale, her blue eyes clouded with an unwonted melancholy, she sat in a corner, cut off from those who surrounded her by an emotion which they did not share. The Head Mistress of Eton was particularly scathing. It was an outrage, and they said so, more and more loudly. "To play such a joke on me," the Arch-Songster kept repeating, "on me!"Īs for the women, they indignantly felt that they had been had on false pretences-had by a wretched little man who had had alcohol poured into his bottle by mistake-by a creature with a Gamma-Minus physique. The higher their position in the hierarchy, the deeper their resentment. The men were furious at having been tricked into behaving politely to this insignificant fellow with the unsavoury reputation and the heretical opinions. In the end Bernard had to slink back, diminished, to his rooms and inform the impatient assembly that the Savage would not be appearing that evening. " Háni!" he added as an after-thought and then (with what derisive ferocity!): " Sons éso tse-n á." And he spat on the ground, as Popé might have done. " Ai yaa tákwa!" It was only in Zuñi that the Savage could adequately express what he felt about the Arch-Community-Songster. "But the Arch-Community-Songster of Canterbury is there to-night." Bernard was almost in tears. "Go to hell!" bawled the exasperated voice from within. "Won't you come to please me?"ĭespairingly, "But what shall I do?" Bernard wailed. "Just to please me," Bernard bellowingly wheedled. "That's precisely why I don't want to come again." "You ought to have asked me first whether I wanted to meet them." "But you know quite well, John" (how difficult it is to sound persuasive at the top of one's voice!) "I asked them on purpose to meet you." "Let them wait," came back the muffled voice through the door. "But everybody's there, waiting for you." BERNARD had to shout through the locked door the Savage would not open.
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