Волны

           Therearethenwarmhollowsgroovedintheheartoftheuproar;alcovesofsilencewherewecanshelterunderthewingofbeautyfromtruthwhichIdesire.Painissuspendedasagirlsilentlyslidesopenadrawer.Andthen,shespeaks;hervoicewakesme.Ishoottothebottomamongtheweedsandseeenvy,jealousy,hatredandspitescuttlelikecrabsoverthesandasshespeaks.Theseareourcompanion’s.Iwillpaymybillandtakemyparcel.

           ’ThisisOxfordStreet.Herearehate,jealousy,hurry,andindifferencefrothedintothewildsemblanceoflife.Theseareourcompanions.Considerthefriendswithwhomwesitandeat.IthinkofLouis,readingthesportingcolumnofaneveningnewspaper,afraidofridicule;asnob.Hesays,lookingatthepeoplepassing,hewillshepherdusifwewillfollow.Ifwesubmithewillreduceustoorder.ThushewillsmoothoutthedeathofPercivaltohissatisfaction,lookingfixedlyoverthecruet,pastthehousesatthesky.Bernard,meanwhile,flopsred-eyedintosomearm-chair.Hewillhaveouthisnotebook;underD,hewillenter"Phrasestobeusedonthedeathsoffriends".Jinny,pirouettingacrosstheroom,willperchonthearmofhischairandask,"Didheloveme?""MorethanhelovedSusan?"Susan,engagedtoherfarmerinthecountry,willstandforasecondwiththetelegrambeforeher,holdingaplate;andthen,withakickofherheel,slamtotheovendoor.