Волны

           Thelampkindlesafireinthedarkpane.Afireburnsintheheartoftheivy.Iseealit-upstreetintheevergreens.Iheartrafficinthebrushofthewinddownthelane,andbrokenvoices,andlaughter,andJinnywhocriesasthedooropens,"Come!Come!"

           ’Butnosoundbreaksthesilenceofourhouse,wherethefieldssighclosetothedoor.Thewindwashesthroughtheelmtrees;amothhitsthelamp;acowlows;acrackofsoundstartsintherafter,andIpushmyheadthroughtheneedleandmurmur,"Sleep".’

           ’Nowisthemoment,’saidJinny.’Nowwehavemet,andhavecometogether.Nowletustalk,letustellstories.Whoishe?Whoisshe?Iaminfinitelycuriousanddonotknowwhatistocome.Ifyou,whomImeetforthefirsttime,weretosaytome,"ThecoachstartsatfourfromPiccadilly,"Iwouldnotstaytoflingafewnecessariesinabandbox,butwouldcomeatonce.

           ’Letussithereunderthecutflowers,onthesofabythepicture.LetusdecorateourChristmastreewithfactsandagainwithfacts.Peoplearesosoongone;letuscatchthem.Thatmanthere,bythecabinet;helivesyousay,surroundedbychinapots.Breakoneandyoushatterathousandpounds.AndhelovedagirlinRomeandshelefthim.Hencethepots,oldjunkfoundinlodging-housesordugfromthedesertsands.Andsincebeautymustbebrokendailytoremainbeautiful,andheisstatic,hislifestagnatesinachinasea.Itisstrangethough;foronceasayoungman,hesatondampgroundanddrankrumwithsoldiers.