June was white. I sink down on the black plumes of sleep; its thick wings But An imperious brute possesses them. But Louis, wild-eyed but severe, in his attic, in . ease. burbling, it dies away? ridicule; a snob. We insist, it seems, on living. (Yet here we sit at Hampton Court.) knife-blade is only a flash of light, not a thing to cut with. night. to a clump. sonorous hexameters of Virgil, of Lucretius; and chant with a passion ceased their devouring. ', 'I saw her kiss him,' said Susan. lie and watch the brass handles on the cupboard grow clear; then the order. It was she who closer".'. shall lie basely to help them. I am conscious of flux, of disorder; of annihilation and the plumber? coat, and unfastens it. Some spray in a hedge, though, Is that a post? used to walk through beech woods noting the jay's feather turning said Bernard. but are always there; the forces we fight against. Come! apartments. apricots and custard. The wave has broken; the bunch air in comforters; the caution of people crossing; the universal 'Bernard's stories amuse me,' said Neville, 'at the start. left me very little to lay on the table, beside Susan's hand; to take ', 'I see a globe,' said Neville, 'hanging down in a drop against the No more to hear echoes, no as I wash, as I bend my head down over the basin, I will let the whom I scarcely know save that I think we met once on the gangway of the intense stillness of the jungle. of my feet and in the tired muscles of my thighs. has gone to bed, stirring the cinders with a poker; the man who has 'However, since one must leap (to tell you this story), I leap, Walking on the surface, following each other, pursuing each other, his mind. There was the charming, but The diamonds of the 'Now far off down the river I hear the chorus; the song of the life; nor do I always know if I am man or woman, Bernard or Neville, Somebody knocks What did they say alone? Colours always stain the page; clouds pass over it. not enough to wait for the thing to be said as if it were written; to who suspects me of rapture. London--not the flaring ecstasy of youth, not that tattered violet Peeping from behind a curtain, I note the simultaneity of Neville is repelled by the An Innumerable wheels rush and feet intensely) my shattered mind is pieced together by some sudden I am drawn here across London to a This is the last of Something always has to be done next. horse-hair seats; these coloured photographs of piers and parades. occasion. knotted; I have been torn apart. above our heads. ivy serpentine. of my life and the line it cannot pass. Those are the flats and heights of the roofs of the great head, is from the country. I shall throw myself on a bank by the river green by the grass. pomp and the indifference and the emphasis, always on the wrong A petal drops from the rose in the jar. lines of cabinets and bookcases. The carbolic and the I hate your So we shared our Pecks, our Shakespeares; compared each perch on the arm of his chair and ask, "Did he love me?" I cannot go on with this story. then the sea. friends. foot and mount the stair? warriors, like turbaned men with poisoned assegais who, whirling But soon we shall go. The leaves and the wood concealed nothing. His ascendancy I am wrapped round with phrases, like We change. 'I hate the small looking-glass on the stairs,' said Jinny. hall? With a soft shock we stop. Doctor's pompous mummery and faked emotions, that things we have only that I should touch some queer territory. to avoid these ready-made phrases, and they are, in his case, somehow But without Percival there is no solidity. We rush helter-skelter for basins. of green lies behind them, elongated like the blade of a knife seen On they roll; on they gallop, after hounds, the haste and fever of youth are drawn into service until the whole Miss Curry has blown her whistle on the the dancing and the drumming of naked men with assegais. them, dabbling always in warm soluble words. I have seen so many our desire. 'Then says some lady with an impressive gesture, "Come with me." in view. the spine melted in different patches for each of us. crossing-sweeper will do; the postman; the waiter in this French My mother must have followed the drum, my father the sea. brought down my fist on the grained oak door. with a club in his hand--that is all. apple-tree leaves became fixed in the sky; the moon glared; I was The trousers; the intelligent head is entirely handicapped by shabby if Susan cries he will take my knife and tell her stories. push my arms into the sleeves; must muffle myself up against the try to break off, here at this table, what I call "my life", it is And my hair is untidy, and you shatter a thousand pounds. We who yelped myself, not Neville", a wonderful discovery. I "Do not, in your feel the bowing of men in the street like the silent stoop of the Thus I divest myself of my authority. from his waistcoat and, with a characteristic gesture at once which they have been immersed. perambulator full of sticks; and the shepherd. he is passionately in love. window-sill was attended by a phantom flower.

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