Волны

           AsIdropasleepatnightitstrikesmesometimeswithapangthatIshallneverseesavagesinTahitispearingfishbythelightofablazingcresset,oralionspringinthejungle,oranakedmaneatingrawflesh.NorshallIlearnRussianorreadtheVedas.Ishallneveragainwalkbangintothepillar-box.(Butstillafewstarsfallthroughmynight,beautifully,fromtheviolenceofthatconcussion.)ButasIthink,truthhascomenearer.FormanyyearsIcroonedcomplacently,"Mychildren...mywife...myhouse...mydog."AsIletmyselfinwiththelatch-keyIwouldgothroughthatfamiliarritualandwrapmyselfinthosewarmcoverings.Nowthatlovelyveilhasfallen.Idonotwantpossessionsnow.(Note:anItalianwasher-womanstandsonthesamerungofphysicalrefinementasthedaughterofanEnglishduke.)

           ’Butletmeconsider.Thedropfalls;anotherstagehasbeenreached.Stageuponstage.Andwhyshouldtherebeanendofstages?andwheredotheylead?Towhatconclusion?Fortheycomewearingrobesofsolemnity.Inthesedilemmasthedevoutconsultthoseviolet-sashedandsensual-lookinggentrywhoaretroopingpastme.Butforourselves,weresentteachers.Letamangetupandsay,"Behold,thisisthetruth,"andinstantlyIperceiveasandycatfilchingapieceoffishinthebackground.Look,youhaveforgottenthecat,Isay.SoNeville,atschool,inthedimchapel,ragedatthesightofthedoctor’scrucifix.