Волны

           ’

           ’Peakedclouds,’saidRhoda,’voyageoveraskydarklikepolishedwhalebone.’

           ’Nowtheagonybegins;nowthehorrorhasseizedmewithitsfangs,’saidNeville.’Nowthecabcomes;nowPercivalgoes.Whatcanwedotokeephim?Howbridgethedistancebetweenus?Howfanthefiresothatitblazesforever?Howsignaltoalltimetocomethatwe,whostandinthestreet,inthelamplight,lovedPercival?NowPercivalisgone.’

           Thesunhadrisentoitsfullheight.Itwasnolongerhalfseenandguessedat,fromhintsandgleams,asifagirlcouchedonhergreen-seamattresstiredherbrowswithwater-globedjewelsthatsentlancesofopal-tintedlightfallingandflashingintheuncertainairliketheflanksofadolphinleaping,ortheflashofafallingblade.Nowthesunburntuncompromising,undeniable.Itstruckuponthehardsand,andtherocksbecamefurnacesofredheat;itsearchedeachpoolandcaughttheminnowhidinginthecranny,andshowedtherustycartwheel,thewhitebone,orthebootwithoutlacesstuck,blackasiron,inthesand.Itgavetoeverythingitsexactmeasureofcolour;tothesandhillstheirinnumerableglitter,tothewildgrassestheirglancinggreen;oritfelluponthearidwasteofthedesert,herewind-scourgedintofurrows,heresweptintodesolatecairns,heresprinkledwithstunteddark-greenjungletrees.Itlitupthesmoothgiltmosque,thefrailpink-and-whitecardhousesofthesouthernvillage,andthelong-breasted,white-hairedwomenwhokneltintheriverbedbeatingwrinkledclothsuponstones.