From a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I
grew I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-(1)
four I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the conscience that I(2)
was outraging my true nature and that soon or later I should have to (3)
settle down and write books.
I was the child of three, but there was a gap of five years on the(4)
either side,and I barely saw my father before I was eight. For this and other reasons
I was somewhat lonely, and I soon developed disagreeing mannerisms which(5)
made me unpopular throughout my schooldays. I had the lonely child's habit of
making up stories and holding conversations with imaginative persons, and (6)
I think from the very start my literal ambitions were mixed up with the (7)
feeling of being isolated and undervalued. I knew that I had a facility with
words and a power of
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