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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-The Time Machine by H.G. Wells


77

EPILOGUE

ONE CANNOT choose but wonder. Will he ever return? It may be
that he swept back into the past, and fell among the blood-
drinking, hairy savages of the Age of Unpolished Stone; into the
abysses of the Cretaceous Sea; or among the grotesque saurians, the
huge reptilian brutes of the Jurassic times. He may even now-if I
may use the phrase-be wandering on some plesiosaurus-haunted
Oolitic coral reef, or beside the lonely saline lakes of the Triassic
Age. Or did he go forward, into one of the nearer ages, in which
men are still men, but with the riddles of our own time answered
and its wearisome problems solved? Into the manhood of the race:
for I, for my own part, cannot think that these latter days of weak
experiment, fragmentary theory, and mutual discord are indeed
man’s culminating time! I say, for my own part. He, I know-for the
question had been discussed among us long before the Time
Machine was made-thought but cheerlessly of the Advancement of
Mankind, and saw in the growing pile of civilization only a foolish
heaping that must inevitably fall back upon and destroy its makers
in the end. If that is so, it remains for us to live as though it were
not so. But to me the future is still black and blank-is a vast
ignorance, lit at a few casual places by the memory of his story.
And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers-
shrivelled now, and brown and flat and brittle-to witness that
even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual
tenderness still lived on in the heart of man.

THE END
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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library-The Time Machine by H.G. Wells



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