A Dead Man in Deptford by Anthony Burgess

By Anthony Burgess

With A useless guy in Deptford, Burgess concluded his literary occupation to overwhelming popularity of his new version of the Elizabethan poet Christopher Marlowe. In lavish, pitch-perfect, and supple, readable prose, Burgess fits his wonderful Shakespeare novel, not anything just like the sunlight. the complete international of Elizabethan England—from the intrigues of the court, during the violent streets of London, to the consideration of the theater—comes alive during this joyous occasion of the lifetime of Christopher Marlowe, murdered in suspicious conditions in a tavern brawl in Deptford greater than 400 years ago.</Div>

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Extra resources for A Dead Man in Deptford

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We crossed the state line and then about twenty miles short of Portland he squirmed around and checked the view out of the back very carefully and told me to take the next exit. We turned onto a narrow road heading due east toward the Atlantic. It passed under I-95 and then ran more than fifteen miles across granite headlands to the sea. It was the kind of landscape that would have looked great in summer. But it was still cold and raw. There were trees stunted by salt winds and exposed rock outcrops where gales and storm tides had scoured the dirt away.

Shit,” I said. The kid said nothing. The shots kept coming, loud and dull and percussive. How were they missing? “Get down on the floor,” I said. I slid sideways until my left shoulder was jammed hard against the door frame and craned my right arm all the way around until the new gun was out of the window and pointing backward. I fired once and the kid stared at me in horror and then slid forward and crouched down in the space between the front edge of his seat and the dash with his arms wrapped around his head.

I was a military cop. I understand bodyguarding. ” The kid nodded, uncertainly. ” he asked. “Depends,” I said. “I need to understand your point of view. I could be in all kinds of trouble. ” He went quiet again. I matched him, mile for mile. Gave him time to think. We were almost out of Massachusetts. “My family appreciates loyalty,” he said. “You did their son a service. And you did them a service. Saved them some money, at least. They’ll show their gratitude. ” He shook his head. “They’re expecting me.

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