第3部分(第4/7 頁)

elt；　season　made　no　perceptible　difference；　there　were　no　luggage…　laden　cabs　to　remind　me　of　joyous　journeys；　the　folk　about　me　went　daily　to　their　toil　as　usual；　and　so　did　I。　I　remember　afternoons　of　languor；　when　books　were　a　weariness；　and　no　thought　could　be　squeezed　out　of　the　drowsy　brain；　then　would　I　betake　myself　to　one　of　the　parks；　and　find　refreshment　without　any　enjoyable　sense　of　change。　Heavens；　how　I　laboured　in　those　days！　And　how　far　I　was　from　thinking　of　myself　as　a　subject　for　passion！　That　came　later；　when　my　health　had　begun　to　suffer　from　excess　of　toil；　from　bad　air；　bad　food　and　many　miseries；　then　awoke　the　maddening　desire　for　countryside　and　sea…beach……and　for　other　things　yet　more　remote。　But　in　the　years　when　I　toiled　hardest　and　underwent　what　now　appear　to　me　hideous　privations；　of　a　truth　I　could　not　be　said　to　suffer　at　all。　I　did　not　suffer；　for　I　had　no　sense　of　weakness。　My　health　was　proof　against　everything；　and　my　energies　defied　all　malice　of　circumstance。　With　however　little　encouragement；　I　had　infinite　hope。　Sound　sleep　（often　in　places　I　now　dread　to　think　of）　sent　me　fresh　to　the　battle　each　morning；　my　breakfast；　sometimes；　no　more　than　a　slice　of　bread　and　a　cup　of　water。　As　human　happiness　goes；　I　am　not　sure　that　I　was　not　then　happy。

Most　men　who　go　through　a　hard　time　in　their　youth　are　supported　by　panionship。　London　has　no　pays　latin；　but　hungry　beginners　in　literature　have　generally　their　suitable　rades；　garreteers　in　the　Tottenham　Court　Road　district；　or　in　unredeemed　Chelsea；　they　make　their　little　vie　de　Boheme；　and　are　consciously　proud　of　it。　Of　my　position；　the　peculiarity　was　that　I　never　belonged　to　any　cluster；　I　shrank　from　casual　acquaintance；　and；　through　the　grim　years；　had　but　one　friend　with