A Prince of the Captivity (Unabridged). Buchan John
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“And I’m not ready myself,” he went on. “I’ve been coming to realise that for some time, and now I’m sure. First of all, I’m not fit enough… Oh yes, I’m fitter than you, far fitter than most people, but I’m not in the hard training I should be in. Today I couldn’t make my body do what it ought to do. I want some good, tough, physical toil.”
“Anything else?” Stannix asked. He smiled as he looked at Adam’s lean face, his frame without an ounce of needless flesh, and the alert poise of his head.
“Yes, I want a spell of quiet. You see, I have been living for four years in a circus. It hasn’t damaged my nerves in the ordinary sense— they’re under pretty good control—but it has made my mind airless and stuffy. I want to get some sort of poise again, and that means being alone. What I need is space and silence—frozen silence.”
“How are you going to find it?”
“I’m on the road to it. I’ve been busy for weeks making arrangements with the Danish Government and with his American relatives. The day after tomorrow I sail for Iceland. I’m going to find Falconet.”
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