Pylon: The Corrected Text

Pylon: The Corrected Text

William Faulkner

Language: English

Pages: 336

ISBN: 0394747410

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The new Vintage edition of the corrected text.












that are ordained to pick and choose it consider news; yair, I tried to tell you but I’m just a poor bastard of an ambulancechaser: I aint supposed to know news when I see it at thirty-five bucks a week or I’d be getting more—Where was I? O yair.——had a room for tonight because they have been here since Wednesday and so they must have had somewhere that they could lock the door and take off some of their clothes or at least put the trenchcoat down and lay down themselves, because they had shaved

struck the engine mount. The coins rang on the concrete floor and Jiggs stooped, ducking, and rose again, extending the coins before Shumann could speak or move. “There they are,” Jiggs said, not loud; he could not have been heard ten feet away: the fierceness, the triumph. “There you are. Count them. Count both sides so you will be sure.” After that they did not talk anymore. They worked quiet and fast, like a circus team, with the trained team’s economy of motion, while the woman passed them

pause, taking the steps two at a time, and on into the cityroom; beneath his green eyeshade Hagood looked up and saw the reporter. But this time the reporter neither sat down nor removed his hat: he stood, loomed, into the green diffusion above the desklamp, looking down at Hagood with gaunt and quiet immobility as though he had been blown for a second against the desk by a wind and would in another second be blown onward once more. “Go home and go to bed,” Hagood said. “The story you phoned in

too that the two older craven officers were at least neutral, pulled to his side by their own physical fear of the mob, and that actually the younger one had for support only his dispensation for impunitive violence with which the dingy cadaver of the law invested him. But it seemed to be enough. It was for the next hour anyway, during which, followed by his ragamuffin train of boys and youths and drunken men, he accomplished his nightmare’s orbit about the town, from mayor to lawyer to lawyer to

contempt touched them all face by face. Then he spoke to Sales again. “You admit that it is licensed, that you approved it yourself—meaning, I take it, that it is registered at Washington as being fit and capable of discharging the function of an airplane, which is to fly. Yet you later state that you will not permit it to fly because it is not capable of discharging the function for which you yourself admit having approved it—in simple language for us lawyers, that it cannot fly. Yet Mr Ord has

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