Дні мрій
A Departure
And,indeed,somethingseemedpossible,fromthedogged,sullenairwithwhichthetwoofthemhadtrottedoffinthedirectionoftheraspberry-canes.Certainspotsalwayshadtheirinsensibleattractionforcertainmoods.Inlove,onesoughttheorchard.Wearyofdiscipline,sickofconvention,impassionedfortheroad,theminingcamp,thelandacrosstheborder,onemadeforthebigmeadow.Mutinous,sulky,chargedwithplotsandconspiracies,onealwaysgotbehindtheshelteroftheraspberry-canes.
“Youcancometooifyoulike,”saidHarold,inasubduedsortofway,assoonashewasawarethatIwassittingupinbedwatchinghim.“Wedidn’tthinkyou’dcare,’cosyou’vegottocatapults.Butwe’regoin’todowhatwe’vesettledtodo,soit’snogoodsayin’wehadn’toughtandthatsortofthing,’coswe’regoin’to!”
Thedayhadpassedinanominouspeacefulness.CharlotteandHaroldhadkeptoutofmyway,aswellasoutofeverybodyelse’s,inapurposefulmannerthatoughttohavebredsuspicion.
Intheeveningwehadreadbooks,orfitfullydrawnshipsandbattlesonfly-leaves,apart,inseparatecorners,voidofconversationorcriticism,oppressedbytheloweringtidinessoftheuniverse,tillbedtimecame,anddisrobement,andprayersevenmoremechanicalthanusual,andlastlybeditselfwithoutsomuchasagiraffeunderthepillow.
