Волны

           Ifeelalready,thoughIcannotenduretheDoctor’spompousmummeryandfakedemotions,thatthingswehaveonlydimlyperceiveddrawnear.IshallbefreetoenterthegardenwhereFenwickraiseshismallet.Thosewhohavedespisedmeshallacknowledgemysovereignty.Butbysomeinscrutablelawofmybeingsovereigntyandthepossessionofpowerwillnotbeenough;Ishallalwayspushthroughcurtainstoprivacy,andwantsomewhisperedwordsalone.ThereforeIgo,dubious,butelate;apprehensiveofintolerablepain;yetIthinkboundinmyadventuringtoconquerafterhugesuffering,bound,surely,todiscovermydesireintheend.There,forthelasttime,Iseethestatueofourpiousfounderwiththedovesabouthishead.Theywillwheelforeverabouthishead,whiteningit,whiletheorganmoansinthechapel.SoItakemyseat;and,whenIhavefoundmyplaceinthecomerofourreservedcompartment,Iwillshademyeyeswithabooktohideonetear;Iwillshademyeyestoobserve;topeepatoneface.Itisthefirstdayofthesummerholidays.’

           ’Itisthefirstdayofthesummerholidays,’saidSusan.’Butthedayisstillrolledup.IwillnotexamineituntilIstepoutontotheplatformintheevening.IwillnotletmyselfevensmellituntilIsmellthecoldgreenairoffthefields.Butalreadythesearenotschoolfields;thesearenotschoolhedges;themeninthesefieldsaredoingrealthings;theyfillcartswithrealhay;andthosearerealcows,notschoolcows.Butthecarbolicsmellofcorridorsandthechalkysmellofschoolroomsisstillinmynostrils.