Волны

           Thesebroadthoroughfares--PiccadillySouth,PiccadillyNorth,RegentStreetandtheHaymarket--aresandedpathsofvictorydriventhroughthejungle.Itoo,withmylittlepatent-leathershoes,myhandkerchiefthatisbutafilmofgauze,myreddenedlipsandmyfinelypencilledeyebrows,marchtovictorywiththeband.

           ’Lookhowtheyshowoffclotheshereevenundergroundinaperpetualradiance.Theywillnotlettheearthevenliewormyandsodden.Therearegauzesandsilksilluminedinglasscasesandunderclothestrimmedwithamillionclosestitchesoffineembroidery.Crimson,green,violet,theyaredyedallcolours.Thinkhowtheyorganize,rollout,smooth,dipindyes,anddrivetunnelsblastingtherock.Liftsriseandfall;trainsstop,tramsstartasregularlyasthewavesofthesea.Thisiswhathasmyadhesion.Iamanativeofthisworld,Ifollowitsbanners.HowcouldIrunforshelterwhentheyaresomagnificentlyadventurous,daring,curious,too,andstrongenoughinthemidstofefforttopauseandscrawlwithafreehandajokeuponthewall?ThereforeIwillpowdermyfaceandreddenmylips.Iwillmaketheangleofmyeyebrowssharperthanusual.Iwillrisetothesurface,standingerectwiththeothersinPiccadillyCircus.Iwillsignwithasharpgesturetoacabwhosedriverwillsignifybysomeindescribablealacrityhisunderstandingofmysignals.ForIstillexciteeagerness.Istillfeelthebowingofmeninthestreetlikethesilentstoopofthecornwhenthelightwindblows,rufflingitred.

           ’Iwilldrivetomyownhouse.