Clara Hopgood by Mark Rutherford
page 17 of 183 (09%)
page 17 of 183 (09%)
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in a muddle, and my head turns round. I was not born for it. I can
do what is under my nose well enough, but nothing more.' 'The planning and the forecasting are the soul of the game. I should like to be a general, and play against armies and calculate the consequences of manoeuvres.' 'It would kill me. I should prefer the fighting. Besides, calculation is useless, for when I think that you will be sure to move such and such a piece, you generally do not.' 'Then what makes the difference between the good and the bad player?' 'It is a gift, an instinct, I suppose.' 'Which is as much as to say that you give it up. You are very fond of that word instinct; I wish you would not use it.' 'I have heard you use it, and say you instinctively like this person or that.' 'Certainly; I do not deny that sometimes I am drawn to a person or repelled from him before I can say why; but I always force myself to discover afterwards the cause of my attraction or repulsion, and I believe it is a duty to do so. If we neglect it we are little better than the brutes, and may grossly deceive ourselves.' At this moment the sound of wheels was heard, and Madge jumped up, nearly over-setting the board, and rushed into the front room. It was the four-horse coach from London, which, once a day, passed |
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