CHAPTER EIGHT

ntainedsheetsfitpreciselyforthecommunicationsoffriends.Mastersoflanguage,poetsoflongages,haveturnedfromthesheetthatendurestothesheetthatperishes,pushingasidethetea-tray,drawingclosetothefire(forlettersarewrittenwhenthedarkpressesroundabrightredcave),andaddressedthemselvestothetaskofreaching,touching,penetratingtheindividualheart.Wereitpossible!Butwordshavebeenusedtoooftentouchedandturned,andleftexposedtothedustofthestreet.Thewordsweseekhangclosetothetree.Wecomeatdawnandfindthemsweetbeneaththeleaf. Mrs.FlanderswrotelettersMrs.JarviswrotethemMrs.DurranttooMotherStuartactuallyscentedherpages,therebyaddingaflavourwhichtheEnglishlanguagefailstoprovideJacobhadwritteninhisdaylonglettersaboutart,morality,andpoliticstoyoungmenatcollege.ClaraDurrant'sletterswerethoseofachild.Florinda—theimpedimentbetweenFlorindaandherpenwassomethingimpassable.Fancyabutterfly,gnat,orotherwingedinsect,attachedtoatwigwhich,cloggedwithmud,itrollsacrossapage.Herspellingwasabominable.Hersentimentsinfantile.AndforsomereasonwhenshewroteshedeclaredherbeliefinGod.Thentherewerecrosses—tearstainsandthehanditselframblingandredeemedonlybythefact—whichalwaysdidredeemFlorinda—bythefactthatshecared.Yes,whetheritwasforchocolatecreams,hotbaths,theshapeofherfaceinthelooking-glass,Florindacouldnomorepretendafeelingthanswallowwhisky.Incontinentwasherrejection.Greatmenaretruthful,andtheselittleprostitutes,staringinthefire,takingoutapowder-puff,decoratinglipsataninchoflooking-glass,have(soJacobthought)aninviolablefidelity. ThenhesawherturningupGreekStreetuponanotherman'sarm. Thelightfromthearclampdrenchedhimfromheadtotoe.Hestoodforaminutemotionlessbeneathit.Shadowschequeredthestreet.Otherfigures,singleandtogether,pouredout,waveredacross,andobliteratedFlorindaandtheman. ThelightdrenchedJacobfromheadtotoe.Youcouldseethepatternonhistrouserstheoldthornsonhisstickhisshoelacesbarehandsandface. Itwasasifastoneweregroundtodustasifwhitesparksflewfromalividwhetstone,whichwashisspineasiftheswitchbackrailway,havingswoopedtothedepths,fell,fell,fell.Thiswasinhisface. Whetherweknowwhatwasinhismindisanotherquestion.Grantedtenyears'seniorityandadifferenceofsex,fearofhimcomesfirstthisisswallowedupbyadesiretohelp—overwhelmingsense,reason,andthetimeofnightangerwouldfollowcloseonthat—withFlorinda,withdestinyandthenupwouldbubbleanirresponsibleoptimism."Surelythere'senoughlightinthestreetatthismomenttodrownallourcaresingold!"Ah,what'stheuseofsayingit?EvenwhileyouspeakandlookoveryourshouldertowardsShaftesburyAvenue,destinyischippingadentinhim.Hehasturnedtogo.Asforfollowinghimbacktohisrooms,no—thatwewon'tdo. Yetthat,ofcourse,ispreciselywhatonedoes.Helethimselfinandshutthedoor,thoughitwasonlystrikingtenononeofthecityclocks.Noonecangotobedatten.Nobodywasthinkingofgoingtobed.ItwasJanuaryanddismal,butMrs.Waggstoodonherdoorstep,asifexpectingsomethingtohappen.Abarrel-organplayedlikeanobscenenightingalebeneathwetleaves.Childrenranacrosstheroad.Hereandthereonecouldseebrownpanellinginsidethehalldoor….Themarchthatthemindkeepsbeneaththewindowsofothersisqueerenough.Nowdistractedbybrownpanellingno