Волны

           Thisperhapsishappiness.NowIamdrawnbackbyprickingsensations;bycuriosity,greed(Iamhungry)andtheirresistibledesiretobemyself.IthinkofpeopletowhomIcouldsaythings:Louis,Neville,Susan,JinnyandRhoda.WiththemIammany-sided.Theyretrievemefromdarkness.Weshallmeettonight,thankHeaven.ThankHeaven,Ineednotbealone.Weshalldinetogether.Weshallsaygood-byetoPercival,whogoestoIndia.Thehourisstilldistant,butIfeelalreadythoseharbingers,thoseoutriders,figuresofone’sfriendsinabsence.IseeLouis,stone-carved,sculpturesque;Neville,scissor-cutting,exact;Susanwitheyeslikelumpsofcrystal;Jinnydancinglikeaflame,febrile,hot,overdryearth;andRhodathenymphofthefountainalwayswet.Thesearefantasticpictures--thesearefigments,thesevisionsoffriendsinabsence,grotesque,dropsical,vanishingatthefirsttouchofthetoeofarealboot.Yettheydrummealive.Theybrushoffthesevapours.Ibegintobeimpatientofsolitude--tofeelitsdraperieshangsweltering,unwholesomeaboutme.Oh,totossthemoffandbeactive!Anybodywilldo.Iamnotfastidious.Thecrossing-sweeperwilldo;thepostman;thewaiterinthisFrenchrestaurant;betterstillthegenialproprietor,whosegenialityseemsreservedforoneself.Hemixesthesaladwithhisownhandsforsomeprivilegedguest.Whichistheprivilegedguest,Iask,andwhy?Andwhatishesayingtotheladyinear-rings;issheafriendoracustomer?Ifeelatonce,asIsitdownatatable,thedeliciousjostleofconfusion,ofuncertainty,ofpossibility,ofspeculation.