Волны

           Whatismystory?WhatisRhoda’s?WhatisNeville’s?Therearefacts,as,forexample:"Thehandsomeyoungmaninthegreysuit,whosereservecontrastedsostrangelywiththeloquacityoftheothers,nowbrushedthecrumbsfromhiswaistcoatand,withacharacteristicgestureatoncecommandingandbenign,madeasigntothewaiter,whocameinstantlyandreturnedamomentlaterwiththebilldiscreetlyfoldeduponaplate."Thatisthetruth;thatisafact,butbeyonditallisdarknessandconjecture.’

           ’Nowoncemore,’saidLouis,’asweareabouttopart,havingpaidourbill,thecircleinourblood,brokensooften,sosharply,forwearesodifferent,closesinaring.Somethingismade.Yes,asweriseandfidget,alittlenervously,wepray,holdinginourhandsthiscommonfeeling,"Donotmove,donotlettheswingdoorcuttopiecesthethingthatwehavemade,thatglobesitselfhere,amongtheselights,thesepeelings,thislitterofbreadcrumbsandpeoplepassing.Donotmove,donotgo.Holditforever."’

           ’Letusholditforonemoment,’saidJinny;’love,hatred,bywhatevernamewecallit,thisglobewhosewallsaremadeofPercival,ofyouthandbeauty,andsomethingsodeepsunkwithinusthatweshallperhapsnevermakethismomentoutofonemanagain.’

           ’Forestsandfarcountriesontheothersideoftheworld,’saidRhoda,’areinit;seasandjungles;thehowlingsofjackalsandmoonlightfallinguponsomehighpeakwheretheeaglesoars.’

           ’Happinessisinit,’saidNeville,’andthequietofordinarythings.