{"product_id":"2940013684843","title":"The Tarn","description":"As Foster moved unconsciously across the room, bent towards the\u003cbr\u003ebookcase, and stood leaning forward a little, choosing now one book, now\u003cbr\u003eanother, with his eyes, his host, seeing the muscles of the back of his\u003cbr\u003ethin, scraggy neck stand out above his low flannel collar, thought of\u003cbr\u003ethe ease with which he could squeeze that throat, and the pleasure, the\u003cbr\u003etriumphant, lustful pleasure, that such an action would give him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe low, white-walled, white-ceilinged room was flooded with the mellow,\u003cbr\u003ekindly Lakeland sun. October is a wonderful month in the English Lakes,\u003cbr\u003egolden, rich, and perfumed, slow suns moving through apricot-tinted\u003cbr\u003eskies to ruby evening glories; the shadows lie then thick about that\u003cbr\u003ebeautiful country, in dark purple patches, in long web-like patterns of\u003cbr\u003esilver gauze, in thick splotches of amber and grey. The clouds pass in\u003cbr\u003egalleons across the mountains, now veiling, now revealing, now\u003cbr\u003edescending with ghost-like armies to the very breast of the plains,\u003cbr\u003esuddenly rising to the softest of blue skies and lying thin in lazy\u003cbr\u003elanguorous colour.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFenwick's cottage looked across to Low Fells; on his right, seen through\u003cbr\u003eside windows, sprawled the hills above Ullswater.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFenwick looked at Foster's back and felt suddenly sick, so that he sat\u003cbr\u003edown, veiling his eyes for a moment with his hand. Foster had come up\u003cbr\u003ethere, come all the way from London, to explain. It was so like Foster\u003cbr\u003eto want to explain, to want to put things right. For how many years had\u003cbr\u003ehe known Foster? Why, for twenty at least, and during all those years\u003cbr\u003eFoster had been for ever determined to put things right with everybody.\u003cbr\u003eHe could never bear to be disliked; he hated that anyone should think\u003cbr\u003eill of him; he wanted everyone to be his friends. That was one reason,\u003cbr\u003eperhaps, why Foster had got on so well, had prospered so in his career;\u003cbr\u003eone reason, too, why Fenwick had not.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor Fenwick was the opposite of Foster in this. He did not want friends,\u003cbr\u003ehe certainly did not care that people should like him--that is people\u003cbr\u003efor whom, for one reason or another, he had contempt--and he had\u003cbr\u003econtempt for quite a number of people.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFenwick looked at that long, thin, bending back and felt his knees\u003cbr\u003etremble. Soon Foster would turn round and that high, reedy voice would\u003cbr\u003epipe out something about the books. \"What jolly books you have,\u003cbr\u003eFenwick!\" How many, many times in the long watches of the night, when\u003cbr\u003eFenwick could not sleep, had he heard that pipe sounding close\u003cbr\u003ethere--yes, in the very shadows of his bed! And how many times had\u003cbr\u003eFenwick replied to it: \"I hate you! You are the cause of my failure in\u003cbr\u003elife! You have been in my way always. Always, always, always!\u003cbr\u003ePatronizing and pretending, and in truth showing others what a poor\u003cbr\u003ething you thought me, how great a failure, how conceited a fool! I know.\u003cbr\u003eYou can hide nothing from me! I can hear you!\"","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47070254072048,"sku":"2940013684843","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013684843","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}