Волны

           Ihavethreeletters,"Iamabouttoplayquoitswithacolonel,sonomore,"thusheendsourfriendship,shoulderinghiswaythroughthecrowdwithawaveofhishand.Thisfarceisworthnomoreformalcelebration.Yetifsomeonehadbutsaid:"Wait";hadpulledthestrapthreeholestighter--hewouldhavedonejusticeforfiftyyears,andsatinCourtandriddenaloneattheheadoftroopsanddenouncedsomemonstroustyranny,andcomebacktous.

           ’NowIsaythereisagrinning,thereisasubterfuge.Thereissomethingsneeringbehindourbacks.Thatboyalmostlosthisfootingasheleaptonthebus.Percivalfell;waskilled;isburied;andIwatchpeoplepassing;holdingtighttotherailsofomnibuses;determinedtosavetheirlives.

           ’Iwillnotliftmyfoottoclimbthestair.Iwillstandforonemomentbeneaththeimmitigabletree,alonewiththemanwhosethroatiscut,whiledownstairsthecookshovesinandoutthedampers.Iwillnotclimbthestair.Wearedoomed,allofus.Womenshufflepastwithshopping-bags.Peoplekeeponpassing.Yetyoushallnotdestroyme.Forthismoment,thisonemoment,wearetogether.Ipressyoutome.Come,pain,feedonme.Buryyourfangsinmyflesh.Tearmeasunder.Isob,Isob.’

           ’Suchistheincomprehensiblecombination,’saidBernard,’suchisthecomplexityofthings,thatasIdescendthestaircaseIdonotknowwhichissorrow,whichjoy.Mysonisborn;Percivalisdead.