Волны

           ’

           (’Yet,Louis,’saidRhoda,’howshortatimesilencelasts.Alreadytheyarebeginningtosmooththeirnapkinsbythesideoftheirplates."Whocomes?"saysJinny;andNevillesighs,rememberingthatPercivalcomesnomore.Jinnyhastakenoutherlooking-glass.Surveyingherfacelikeanartist,shedrawsapowder-puffdownhernose,andafteronemomentofdeliberationhasgivenpreciselythatredtothelipsthatthelipsneed.Susan,whofeelsscornandfearatthesightofthesepreparations,fastensthetopbuttonofhercoat,andunfastensit.Whatisshemakingreadyfor?Forsomething,butsomethingdifferent.’

           ’Theyaresayingtothemselves,’saidLouis,’"Itistime.Iamstillvigorous,"theyaresaying."Myfaceshallbecutagainsttheblackofinfinitespace."Theydonotfinishtheirsentences."Itistime,"theykeepsaying."Thegardenswillbeshut."Andgoingwiththem,Rhoda,sweptintotheircurrent,weshallperhapsdropalittlebehind.’

           ’Likeconspiratorswhohavesomethingtowhisper,’saidRhoda.)

           ’Itistrue,andIknowforafact,’saidBernard,’aswewalkdownthisavenue,thataKing,riding,felloveramolehillhere.Buthowstrangeitseemstosetagainstthewhirlingabyssesofinfinitespacealittlefigurewithagoldenteapotonhishead.Soononerecoversbeliefinfigures:butnotatonceinwhattheyputontheirheads.OurEnglishpast--oneinchoflight.Thenpeopleputteapotsontheirheadsandsay,"IamaKing!"No,Itrytorecover,aswewalk,thesenseoftime,butwiththatstreamingdarknessinmyeyesIhavelostmygrip.