Волны

           Ibindmyhairwithawhiteribbon,sothatwhenIleapacrossthecourttheribbonwillstreamoutinaflash,yetcurlroundmyneck,perfectlyinitsplace.Notahairshallbeuntidy.’

           ’Thatismyface,’saidRhoda,’inthelooking-glassbehindSusan’sshoulder--thatfaceismyface.ButIwillduckbehindhertohideit,forIamnothere.Ihavenoface.Otherpeoplehavefaces;SusanandJinnyhavefaces;theyarehere.Theirworldistherealworld.Thethingstheyliftareheavy.TheysayYes,theysayNo;whereasIshiftandchangeandamseenthroughinasecond.Iftheymeetahousemaidshelooksatthemwithoutlaughing.Butshelaughsatme.Theyknowwhattosayifspokento.Theylaughreally;theygetangryreally;whileIhavetolookfirstanddowhatotherpeopledowhentheyhavedoneit.

           ’SeenowwithwhatextraordinarycertaintyJinnypullsonherstockings,simplytoplaytennis.ThatIadmire.ButIlikeSusan’swaybetter,forsheismoreresolute,andlessambitiousofdistinctionthanJinny.Bothdespisemeforcopyingwhattheydo;butSusansometimesteachesme,forinstance,howtotieabow,whileJinnyhasherownknowledgebutkeepsittoherself.Theyhavefriendstositby.Theyhavethingstosayprivatelyincorners.ButIattachmyselfonlytonamesandfaces;andhoardthemlikeamuletsagainstdisaster.IchooseoutacrossthehallsomeunknownfaceandcanhardlydrinkmyteawhenshewhosenameIdonotknowsitsopposite.Ichoke.Iamrockedfromsidetosidebytheviolenceofmyemotion.