It lies down there ever so far beneath us. I want
white petals that float when I tipthe basin up. Yours grow full and brim and never
break.
I see a slab of pale yellow, said Susan, spreading
away until itmeets a purple stripe.
I hate dangling things; I hate dampish things.
Rhodasare like those pale flowers to which moths come in the evening.
Here is Rhoda on the path rockingpetals to and fro
in her brown basin. I shall eat grass anddie in a ditch in the brown water where
dead leaves have rotted. What the contemporary senior tells his junior to-day is
perfectlycorrect. The stalks are covered with harsh, short hairs, said Jinny,
anddrops of water have stuck to them.
There is aring of wall round this wood; nobody
comes here.
I will examine it andtake it between my fingers.
Look at the house, said Jinny, with all its windows white withblinds. And I will now
rock thebrown basin from side to side so that my ships may ride the
waves.
I see a globe, said Neville, hanging down in a drop
against theenormous flanks of some hill. And burning lights from the window-panes
flash in and out on thegrasses, said Louis.
I saw leaves movingin a hole in the hedge. Now
there are rounds of white china, and silver streaksbeside each plate. The common
sense ofmankind may suffice to avert that.
There is aring of wall round this wood; nobody
comes here.
The waves close over us, the beechleaves meet above
our heads. Never has the translation ofvision into realities been easy since the
beginning of human effort. Jinny and Susan, Bernard andNeville bind themselves into
a thong with which to lash me.
There lies a great work for various groups of the
Open Conspiracy. Graspthe ferns tight on the top of the wall.
I knew my cases and my genders; Icould know
everything in the world if I wished.
Now we have fallen through the tree-tops to the
earth.
He will feel better, will better, think better,
see, taste,and hear better than men do now.
It is no part of modern religion to incur needless
hardship or go outof the way to seek martyrdom. I was running, said Jinny, after
breakfast.
That isa wood-pigeon breaking cover in the tops of
the beech trees.
And burning lights from the window-panes flash in
and out on thegrasses, said Louis.
Now she walks across the field with a swing,
nonchalantly, todeceive us. He slept only in snatchesand learned the full bitterness
of insight misunderstood. And Biddy has smacked down the bucket on the kitchen
flags.
Louis writes; Susan writes; Neville writes; Jinny
writes; evenBernard has now begun to write.