The Project Gutenberg eBook, Martin Eden, by Jack London

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Title: Martin Eden

Author: Jack London

Release Date: November 25, 2004 [eBook #1056]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARTIN EDEN***

Transcribed from the 1913 Macmillan and Company edition by David Price,
email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk

MARTIN EDEN

CHAPTER I

The one opened the door with a latch-key and went in, followed by a young
fellow who awkwardly removed his cap. He wore rough clothes that smacked
of the sea, and he was manifestly out of place in the spacious hall in
which he found himself. He did not know what to do with his cap, and was
stuffing it into his coat pocket when the other took it from him. The
act was done quietly and naturally, and the awkward young fellow
appreciated it. "He understands," was his thought. "He'll see me
through all right."

He walked at the other's heels with a swing to his shoulders, and his
legs spread unwittingly, as if the level floors were tilting up and
sinking down to the heave and lunge of the sea. The wide rooms seemed
too narrow for his rolling gait, and to himself he was in terror lest his
broad shoulders should collide with the doorways or sweep the bric-a-brac
from the low mantel. He recoiled from side to side between the various
objects and multiplied the hazards that in reality lodged only in his
mind. Between a grand piano and a centre-table piled high with books was
space for a half a dozen to walk abreast, yet he essayed it with
trepidation. His heavy arms hung loosely at his sides. He did not know
what to do with those arms and hands, and when, to his excited vision,
one arm seemed liable to brush against the books on the table, he lurched
away like a frightened horse, barely missing the piano stool. He watched
the easy walk of the other in front of him, and for the first time
realized that his walk was different from that of other men. He
experienced a momentary pang of shame that he should walk so uncouthly.
The sweat burst through the skin of his forehead in tiny beads, and he
paused and mopped his bronzed face with his handkerc