Хвилі

           Herwetpocket-handkerchief,andthesightofherlittlebackheavingupanddownlikeapump-handle,sobbingforwhatwasdeniedher,screwedmynervesup."Thatisnottobeborne,"Isaid,asIsatbesideherontherootsthatwerehardasskeletons.Ithenfirstbecameawareofthepresenceofthoseenemieswhochange,butarealwaysthere;theforceswefightagainst.Toletoneselfbecarriedonpassivelyisunthinkable."That’syourcourse,world,"onesays,"mineisthis."So,"Let’sexplore,"Icried,andjumpedup,andrandownhillwithSusanandsawthestable-boyclatteringabouttheyardingreatboots.Downbelow,throughthedepthsoftheleaves,thegardenerssweptthelawnswithgreatbrooms.Theladysatwriting.Transfixed,stoppeddead,Ithought,"Icannotinterferewithasinglestrokeofthosebrooms.Theysweepandtheysweep.Norwiththefixityofthatwomanwriting."Itisstrangethatonecannotstopgardenerssweepingnordislodgeawoman.Theretheyhaveremainedallmylife.ItisasifonehadwokeninStonehengesurroundedbyacircleofgreatstones,theseenemies,thesepresences.Thenawood-pigeonflewoutofthetrees.Andbeinginloveforthefirsttime,Imadeaphrase--apoemaboutawood-pigeon--asinglephrase,foraholehadbeenknockedinmymind,oneofthosesuddentransparenciesthroughwhichoneseeseverything.Thenmorebreadandbutterandmorefliesdroningroundthenurseryceilingonwhichquiveredislandsoflight,ruffled,opalescent,whilethepointedfingersofthelustredrippedbluepoolsonthecornerofthemantelpiece.