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      Of Human Bondage

      by William Somerset Maugham

      ©2016 SMK Books

      All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except for brief quotations for review purposes only.

      SMK Books

      PO Box 632

      Floyd VA 24091-0632

      ISBN 13: 978-1-63384-321-9

      Table of Contents

       I

       II

       III

       IV

       V

       VI

       VII

       VIII

       IX

       X

       XI

       XII

       XIII

       XIV

       XV

       XVI

       XVII

       XVIII

       XIX

       XX

       XXI

       XXII

       XXIII

       XXIV

       XXV

       XXVI

       XXVII

       XXVIII

       XXIX

       XXX

       XXXI

       XXXII

       XXXIII

       XXXIV

       XXXV

       XXXVI

       XXXVII

       XXXVIII

       XXXIX

       XL

       XLI

       XLII

       XLIII

       XLIV

       XLV

       XLVI

       XLVII

       XLVIII

       XLIX

       L

       LI

       LII

       LIII

       LIV

       LV

       LVI

       LVII

       LVIII

       LIX

       LX

       LXI

       LXII

       LXIII

       LXIV

       LXV

       LXVI

       LXVII

       LXVIII

       LXIX

       LXX

       LXXI

       LXXII

       LXXIII

       LXXIV

       LXXV

       LXXVI

       LXXVII

       LXXVIII

       LXXIX

       LXXX

       LXXXI

       LXXXII

       LXXXIII

       LXXXIV

       LXXXV

       LXXXVI

       LXXXVII

       LXXXVIII

       LXXXIX

       XC

       XCI

       XCII

       XCIII

       XCIV

       XCV

       XCVI

       XCVII

       XCVIII

       XCIX

       C

       CI

       CII

       CIII

       CIV

       CV

       CVI

       CVII

       CVIII

       CIX

       CX

       CXI

       CXII

       CXIII

       CXIV

       CXV

       CXVI

       CXVII

       CXVIII

       CXIX

       CXX

       CXXI

       CXXII

      I

      The day broke gray and dull. The clouds hung heavily, and there was a rawness in the air that suggested snow. A woman servant came into a room in which a child was sleeping and drew the curtains. She glanced mechanically at the house opposite, a stucco house with a portico, and went to the child’s bed.

      “Wake up, Philip,” she said.

      She pulled down the bed-clothes, took him in her arms, and carried him downstairs. He was only half awake.

      “Your mother wants you,” she said.

      She opened the door of a room on the floor below and took the child over to a bed in which a woman was lying. It was his mother. She stretched out her arms, and the child nestled by her side. He did not ask why he had been awakened. The woman kissed his eyes, and with thin, small hands felt the warm body through his white flannel nightgown. She pressed him closer to herself.

      “Are you sleepy, darling?” she said.