Волны

           YetIpreferaviewoverchimneypots;catsscrapingtheirmangysidesuponblisteredchimney-stacks;brokenwindows;andthehoarseclangourofbellsfromthesteepleofsomebrickchapel.’

           ’Iseewhatisbeforeme,’saidJinny.’Thisscarf,thesewine-colouredspots.Thisglass.Thismustardpot.Thisflower.Ilikewhatonetouches,whatonetastes.Ilikerainwhenithasturnedtosnowandbecomepalatable.Andbeingrash,andmuchmorecourageousthanyouare,Idonottempermybeautywithmeannesslestitshouldscorchme.Igulpitdownentire.Itismadeofflesh;itismadeofstuff.Myimaginationisthebody’s.Itsvisionsarenotfine-spunandwhitewithpuritylikeLouis’.Idonotlikeyourleancatsandyourblisteredchimney-pots.Thescrannelbeautiesofyourroof-topsrepelme.Menandwomen,inuniforms,wigsandgowns,bowlerhatsandtennisshirtsbeautifullyopenattheneck,theinfinitevarietyofwomen’sdresses(Inoteallclothesalways)delightme.Ieddywiththem,inandout,inandout,intorooms,intohalls,here,there,everywhere,wherevertheygo.Thismanliftsthehoofofahorse.Thismanshovesinandoutthedrawersofhisprivatecollection.Iamneveralone.Iamattendedbyaregimentofmyfellows.Mymothermusthavefollowedthedrum,myfatherthesea.Iamlikealittledogthattrotsdowntheroadaftertheregimentalband,butstopstosnuffatree-trunk,tosniffsomebrownstain,andsuddenlycareersacrossthestreetaftersomemongrelcurandthenholdsonepawupwhileitsniffsanentrancingwhiffofmeatfromthebutcher’sshop.