Хвилі
’
’HereisPercival,’saidBernard,’smoothinghishair,notfromvanity(hedoesnotlookintheglass),buttopropitiatethegodofdecency.Heisconventional;heisahero.Thelittleboystroopedafterhimacrosstheplaying-fields.Theyblewtheirnosesasheblewhisnose,butunsuccessfully,forheisPercival.Now,whenheisabouttoleaveus,togotoIndia,allthesetriflescometogether.Heisahero.Ohyes,thatisnottobedenied,andwhenhetakeshisseatbySusan,whomheloves,theoccasioniscrowned.Wewhoyelpedlikejackalsbitingateachother’sheelsnowassumethesoberandconfidentairofsoldiersinthepresenceoftheircaptain.Wewhohavebeenseparatedbyouryouth(theoldestisnotyettwenty-five),whohavesunglikeeagerbirdseachhisownsongandtappedwiththeremorselessandsavageegotismoftheyoungourownsnail-shelltillitcracked(Iamengaged),orperchedsolitaryoutsidesomebedroomwindowandsangoflove,offameandothersingleexperiencessodeartothecallowbirdwithayellowtuftonitsbeak,nowcomenearer;andshufflingcloseronourperchinthisrestaurantwhereeverybody’sinterestsareatvariance,andtheincessantpassageoftrafficchafesuswithdistractions,andthedooropeningperpetuallyitsglasscagesolicitsuswithmyriadtemptationsandoffersinsultsandwoundstoourconfidence--sittingtogetherhereweloveeachotherandbelieveinourownendurance.’
’Nowletusissuefromthedarknessofsolitude,’saidLouis.
’Nowletussay,brutallyanddirectly,whatisinourminds,’saidNeville.
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