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This is a LibriVox recording. AllLibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer,please visit LibriVox dot org. To day's
reading by Alex Foster Alex Foster dotme dot duque. The Invisible Man by
H. G. Wells, Chaptertwenty three in Dreary Lane. But you
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begin now to realize, said theInvisible Man, the full disadvantage of my
condition. I had no shelter,no covering. To get clothing was to
forego all my advantage to make myselfa strange and terrible thing. I was
fasting for to eat, to fillmyself with unassimilated matter, would be become
grotesquely visible again. I never thoughtof that, said Kemp, nor had
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I, and the snow had warnedme of other dangers. I could not
go abroad in snow. It wouldsettle on me and expose me. Rain,
too, would make me a wateroutline, a glistening surface of a
man, a bubble and fog.I should be like a fainter bubble in
a fog, a surface, agreasy glimmer of humanity. Moreover, as
I went abroad in the London air, I gathered dirt about my ankles,
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floating smuts and dust upon my skin. I did not know how long it
would be before I should come visiblefrom that cause also, but I saw
clearly it could not be for long, not in London at any rate.
I went into the slums towards GreatPortland Street and found myself at the end
of the street in which I hadlodged. I did not go that way
because of the crowd. Halfway downit opposite, still looking at the smoking
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ruins of the house I had fired, my most immediate problem was to get
clothing. What to do with myface puzzled me. Then I saw one
of those little miscellaneous shops news,sweet Toys, stationary Belated Christmas, tom
Fulu and so forth, and aray of masks and noses. I realized
the problem was solved. In aflash. I saw my course. I
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turned about, no longer aimless,and went securitously in order to avoid their
busy ways, towards the back streetsnorth of the Strand, for I remembered,
though not very distinctly, ware thatsome theatrical costumiers had shops in that
district. The day was cold,with a nipping wind down the northward running
streets, I walked fast to avoidbeing overtaken. Every crossing was a danger,
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every passenger a thing to wash alertly. One man I was about to
pass him at the top of BedfordStreet, turned upon me abruptly and came
into me, sending me into theroad and almost under the wheel of a
passing hansom. The verdict of thecab rank was that he had some sort
of stroke. I was so unnervedby this encounter that I went into Covent
Garden Market and sat down for sometime in a quiet corner by a stall
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of violets, panting and trembling.I found I had caught a fresh cold
and had to turn out after timelest my sneezes should attract attention. At
last I reached the object of myquest, a dirty, fly blown little
shop in a byway near Drury Lane, with a window full of tinsel robes,
sham jewels, wigs, slippers,dominoes, and theatrical photographs. The
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shop was old fashioned and low anddark, and the house rose above it
for four stories, dark and dismal. I peered through the window, and,
seeing no one within, entered.The opening of the door set a
clanking bell ringing. I left itopen and walked around a bare costume,
stand into a corner behind a chevalglass. For a minute or so,
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no one came. Then I heardheavy feet striding across a room, and
a man appeared down the shop.My plans were now perfectly definite. I
proposed to make my way into thehouse, secrete myself upstairs, watched my
opportunity, and when everything was quiet, rummage out a wig, masked spectacles
and costume and go into the world, perhaps a grotesque, but still a
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credible figure. And incidentally, ofcourse I could rob the house of any
available money. The man who hadjust entered the shop was a short,
slight hunt beetle browed man with longarms and very short bandy legs. Apparently
I had interrupted a meal. Hestared about the shop with an expression of
expectation. This gave way to surpriseand then to anger as he saw the
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shop empty. Damn the boys,he said. He went a stare up
and down the street. He camein again in a minute, kicked the
door too with his foot spitefully,and went muttering back to the house door.
I came forward to follow him,and at the noise of my movement,
he stopped dead. I did so, too, Startled by his quickness
of ear, he slammed the housedoor in my face. I stood hesitating.
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Suddenly I heard his quick footsteps returning, and the door reopened. He
stood looking about the shop like onewho was still not satisfied. Then murmuring
to himself. He examined the backof the counter and peered behind some fixtures.
Then he stood doubtful. He hadleft the house door open, and
I slipped into the inner room.It was a queer little room, poorly
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furnished, and with a number ofbig masks. In the corner. On
the table was his belated breakfast,and it was confoundedly exasperating for me Kemp
to have to sniff his coffee andstand watching while he came in and resumed
his meal and his table manners wereirritating. Three doors opened into the little
room, one going upstairs and onedown, but they were all shut.
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I could not get out of theroom while he was there. I could
scarcely move because of his alertness,and there was a draft down my back.
Twice I strangled a sneeze just intime. The spectacular quality of my
sensations was curious and novel. Butfor all that, I was heartily tired
and angry long before he had donehis eating. But at last he made
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an end, and putting his beggarlycrockery on the black tin tray upon which
he had had his teapot, andgathering all the crumbs up on the mustard
stained cloth, he took the wholelot of things after him. His burden
prevented his shutting the door behind him, as he would have done. I
had never seen such a man forshutting doors, and I followed him into
a very dirty underground kitchen and scullery. I had the pleasure of seeing him
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begin to wash up, and then, finding no good in keeping down there,
and the brick floor being coal onmy feet, I returned upstairs and
sat in his chair by the fire. It was burning low, and scarcely
thinking, I put on a littlecoal. The noise of this brought him
up at once, and he stooda glare. He peered about the room
and was within an ace of touchingme. Even after that examination, he
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scarcely seemed satisfied. He stopped inthe doorway and took a final inspection before
he went down. I waited inthe little parlor for an age, and
at last he came up and openedthe upstairs door. I just managed to
get by him on the staircase.He stopped suddenly, so that I very
nearly blundered into him. He stoodlooking right back into my face and listening.
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I could have sworn, he said. His long, hairy hand pulled
at his lower lip. His eyewent up and down the staircase. Then
he grunted and went on up again. His hand was on the handle of
a door, and then he stoppedagain, with the same puzzled anger on
his face. He was becoming awareof the faint sounds of my movements about
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him. The man must have haddiaboically acute hearing. He suddenly flashed into
rage. If there's any one inthis house, he cried with an oath,
and left the threat unfinished. Heput his hand in his pocket,
failed to find what he wanted,and rushing past me, went blundering noisily
and pugnaciously downstairs. But I didnot follow him. I sat on the
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head of the staircase until his return. Presently he came up again, still
muttering. He opened the door ofthe room and before I could enter,
slammed it in my face. Iresolved to explore the house, and spent
some time in doing it so asnoiselessly as possible. The house was very
old and tumble down, damp,so that the paper in the attics was
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peeling from the walls and rat infested. Some of the door handles were stiff,
and I was afraid to turn them. Several rooms I did inspect were
unfurnished, and others were littered withtheatrical lumber brought second hand, I judged
from its appearance. In one roomnext to his, I found a lot
of old clothes. I began rootingamong these, and in my eagerness forgot
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again the evident sharpness of his ears. I heard a stealthy footstep, and,
looking up just in time, sawhim peering in at the tumbled heap
and holding an old fashioned revolver inhis hand. I stood perfectly still while
he stared about, open mouthed andsuspicious. It must have been her,
he said, slowly, damn her. He shut the door quietly, and
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immediately I heard the key turn inthe lock. Then his footsteps retreated.
I realized abruptly that I was lockedin for a moment, I did not
know what to do. I walkedfrom door to window and back, and
stood perplexed. A gust of angercame upon me, but I decided to
inspect the clothes before I did anythingfurther, and my first attempt brought down
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a pile from an upper shelf.This brought him back, more sinister than
ever. That time he actually touchedme, jumped back with amazement, and
stood astonished in the middle of theroom. Presently he calmed A little rats,
he said in an undertone, fingerson lips. He was evidently a
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little scared. I edged quietly outof the room, but a plank creaked.
Then the infernal little brute started goingall over the house, revolver in
hand, and locking door after doorand pocketing the keys. When I realized
what he was up to, Ihad a fit of rage. I could
hardly control myself sufficiently to watch myopportunity. By this time I knew he
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was alone in the house, andso I made no more ado, but
knocked him on the head. Knockedhim on the head, exclaimed Kemp.
Yes, stunned him as he wasgoing downstairs, hit him from behind with
a stool that stood on the landing. He went downstairs like a bag of
odd boots. But I say,the common conventions of humanity are all very
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well for common people. But thepoint was, Kemp, that I had
to get out of that house ina disguise without his seeing me. And
I couldn't think of another way ofdoing it. And then I gagged him
with a Louis Cator's vest and tiedhim up in a sheet. Tied him
up in a sheet, I madea sort of bag of it. It
was rather a good idea to keepthe idiot scared and quiet, and a
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devilish hard thing to get out ofhead away from the string. My dear
Kemp, it's no good you sittingglaring at me as though I was a
murderer. It had to be done. He had his revolver if once he
saw me he would be able todescribe me. But still said Kemp.
In England to day, and theman was in his own house and knew
were well robbing, robbing confound it. You'll call me a thief next.
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Surely, Kemp, you're not foolenough to dance on the old strings.
Can't you see my position? Andhere's too, said Kemp. The invisible
man stood up sharply. What youmean to say? Kemp's face grew a
trifle hard. He was about tospeak, and checked himself. I suppose,
after all, he said, witha sudden change of manner, that
the thing had to be done.You were in a fix. But still,
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of course I was in a fix, an infernal fix. And he
made me wild, too, huntingme about the house, falling about with
his revolver, locking and unlocking doors. He was simply exasperating. You don't
blame me, do you. Youdon't blame me. I never blame anyone,
said Kemp. It's quite out offashion. What did you do next?
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I was hungry. Downstairs, Ifound a loaf and some rank cheese,
more than sufficient to satisfy my hunger. I took some brandy and water,
and then went up past my impromptubag. He was lying quite still
to the room containing the old clerThis looked out upon the street. Two
lace curtains, brown with dirt,guarding the window. I went and peered
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out through their interstices. Outside,the day was bright, by contrast with
the brown shadows of the dismal housein which I found myself. Dazzlingly bright.
A brisk traffic was going by fruitcarts, a handsom, a four
wheeler with a pile of boxes,a fishmonger's cart. I turned, with
spots of color swimming before my eyes, to the shadowy fixtures behind me.
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My excitement was giving place to aclear apprehension of my position. Again.
The room was full of a faintscent of benzoline, used I supposed in
cleaning the garments. I began asystematic search of the place I should judge.
The hunchback had been alone in thehouse for some time. He was
a curious person. Everything that couldpossibly be of service to me I collected
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in the clothes store room. ThenI made a deliberate selection. I found
a hand bag I thought a suitablepossession, and some powder rouge and sticking
plaster. I had thought of paintingand powdering my face and all that there
was to show of me, inorder to render myself visible. But the
disadvantage of this lay in the factthat I should require turpentine and other appliances,
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and a considerable amount of time beforeI could vanish again. Finally,
I chose a mask of the bettertype, slightly grotesque, but not more
so than many human beings. Darkglasses, grayish whiskers, and a wig.
I could find no underclothing, butthat I could buy. Subsequently,
and for the time, I swathedmyself in calico dominoes and some white cashmere
scarves. I could find no socks, but the hunchback's boots were rather a
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loose fit and sufficed. In adesk in the shop were three sovereigns and
about thirty shillings worth of silver,And in a locked cupboard I burst in.
In the inner room were eight poundsin gold. I could go forth
into the world again equipped. Thencame a curious hesitation, with my appearance
really credible. I tried myself witha little I Droom looking glass, inspecting
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myself from every point of view todiscover any forgotten chink. But it all
seemed sound. I was grotesque tothe theatrical pitch, a stage miser,
but I was certainly not a physicalimpossibility. Gaining confidence, I took my
looking glass down into the shop,pulled down the shop blinds, and surveyed
myself from every point of view.With the help of the cheval glass in
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the corner. I spent some moments, screwing up my courage, and then
unlocked the shop door and marched outinto the street, leaving the little man
to get out of his sheet againwhen he liked. And five minutes a
dozen turnings intervened between me and thecostumious shop. No one appeared to notice
me very pointedly, my last difficultyseemed overcome. He stopped again, and
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you troubled. No more about thehunchback, said Kemp. No said the
invisible man. Nor have I heardwhat became of him. I suppose he
untied himself or kicked himself out.The knots were pretty tight. He became
silent and went to the window andstared out what happened when he went out
into the strand. Oh, disillusionmentagain. I thought my troubles were over
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practically, I thought I had impunityto do whatever I chose, everything save
to give away my secret. SoI thought whatever I did, whatever the
consequences might be, was nothing tome. I had merely to fling aside
my garments and vanish. No personcould hold me. I could take my
money where I found it. Idecided to treat myself to a sumptuous feast,
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and then put up at a goodhotel and accumulate a new outfit of
property. I felt amazingly confident.It's not particularly pleasant, recalling that I
was an ass. I went intoa place and was already ordering lunch when
it occurred to me that I couldnot eat unless I exposed my invisible face.
I finished ordering the lunch, toldthe man I should be back in
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ten minutes, and went out,exasperating. I don't know if you've ever
been disappointed in your appetite. Notquite so badly, said Kemp, but
I can imagine it. I couldhave smashed the silly devils. At last,
faint with the desire for tasteful food, I went into another place and
demanded a private room. I amdisfigured, I said badly. They looked
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at me curiously, but of courseit was not their affair, and so
at last I got my lunch.Was not particularly well served, but it
sufficed, And when I had it, I sat over a cigar, trying
to plan my line of action,and outside a snow storm was beginning.
The more I thought it over,Kemp, the more I realized what a
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helpless, absurdity and invisible man wasin a cold and dirty climate, and
a crowded, civilized city. BeforeI made this mad experiment, I had
dreamt of a thousand advantages. Thatafternoon it seemed all disappointment. I went
over the heads of the things aman reckons desirable. No doubt invisibility made
it possible to get them, butit made it impossible to enjoy them when
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they are got. Ambition, Whatis the good of pride of place when
you cannot appear there? What isthe good of the love of a woman
when her name must needs be Delilah? I have no taste for politics,
for the blaggardisms of fame, forphilanthropy, for sport. What was I
to do? And for this Ihad become a wrapped up mystery, a
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swathed and bandaged caricature of a man. He paused, and his attitude suggested
a roving glance at the window.But how did you get to iping,
said Kemp, anxious to keep hisguest busy talking. I went there to
work. I had one hope.It was a half idea. I have
it still. It is a fullblown idea now, a way of getting
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back, of restoring what I havedone when I choose when I have done
all I mean to do invisibly,and that is what I chiefly want to
talk to you about. Now youwent straight to iping. Yes, I
had simply to get my three volumesof memory, and my check book,
my luggage and underclothing, order aquantity of chemicals to work out this idea
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of mine. I will show youthe calculations as soon as I get my
books. And then I started.Jove, I remember the snowstorm now and
the accursed bother It was to keepthe snow from damping my pasteboard nose at
the end, said Kemp. Theday before yesterday, when they found you
out, you rather to judge bythe papers I did? Rather? Did
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I kill that fool of a constable, No, said Kemp. He's expected
to recover. That's his luck.Then I clean lost my temper the fools.
Why couldn't they leave me alone?And that grosser lout There are no
deaths expected, said Kemp. Idon't know about that tramp of mine,
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said the invisible man, with anunpleasant laugh. By heaven, Kemp,
you don't know what rage is tohave worked for years, to have planned
and plotted, and then to getsome fumbling, purblind idiot, messing across
your course. Every conceivable sort ofsilly creature that has ever been created has
been sent to cross me. IfI have much more of it, I
shall go wild. I shall stopmowing em as it is. They've made
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things a thousand times more difficult.No doubt it's exasperating, said Kemp dryly,
end of Chapter twenty three, recordedin Nottingham, England, on the
eleventh of April twenty o six byAlex Foster dot me dot JUK