Then the fountains of his great deep were broken up, and for two or three minutes I couldn't see him for the rain.

It was words, only words, but they fell so densely that they darkened the atmosphere.

Finally he made an imposing sweep with his right hand, which comprehended the whole room and said, "Books--look at those shelves! Every one of them is loaded with books that are waiting for publication.

Do I want any more?
Excuse me, I don't.

Good morning." Twenty-one years elapsed before I saw Carleton again.