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shall be able in ten years’ time to spend a weekend at lahore？ or that the least insect in japan has a name twice the length of its body？ oh； cassandra； for heaven’s sake let us devise a method by which men may bear children！ it is our only chance。 for unless we provide them with some innocent occupation we shall get neither good people nor good books； we shall perish beneath the fruits of their unbridled activity； and not a human being will survive to know that there once was shakespeare！”
“it is too late；” i replied。 “we cannot provide even for the children that we have。”
“and then you ask me to believe in intellect；” she said。
while we spoke； man were crying hoarsely and wearily in the street； and； listening； we heard that the treaty of peace had just been signed。 the voices died away。 the rain was falling and interfered no doubt with the proper explosion of the fireworks。
“my cook will have bought the evening news；” said castalia； “and ann will be spelling it out over her tea。 i must go home。”
“it’s no good—not a bit of good；” i said。 “once she knows how to read there’s only one thing you can teach her to believe in—and that is herself。”
“well； that would be a change；” sighed castalia。
so we swept up the papers of our society； and； though ann was playing with her doll very happily； we solemnly made her a present of the lot and told her we had chosen her to be president of the society of the future—upon which she burst into tears； poor little girl。
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3。 Monday or Tuesday
小！说
3。 monday or tuesday
lazy and indifferent； shaking space easily from his wings； knowing his way； the heron passes over the church beneath the sky。 white and distant； absorbed in itself； endlessly the sky covers and uncovers； moves and remains。 a lake？ blot the shores of it out！ a mountain？ oh； perfect—the sun gold on its slopes。 down that falls。 ferns then； or white feathers； for ever and ever—
desiring truth； awaiting it； laboriously distilling a few words； for ever desiring—（a cry starts to the left； another to the right。 wheels strike divergently。 omnibuses conglomerate in conflict）—for ever desiring—（the clock asseverates with twelve distinct strokes that it is midday； light sheds gold scales； children swarm）—for ever desiring truth。 red is the dome； coins hang on the trees； smoke trails from the chimneys； bark； shout； cry “iron for sale”—and truth？
radiating to a point men’s feet and women’s feet； black or gold–encrusted—（this foggy weather—sugar？ no； thank you—the monwealth of the future）—the firelight darting and making the room red； save for the black figures and their bright eyes； while outside a van discharges； miss thingummy drinks tea at her desk； and plate–glass preserves fur coats—
flaunted； leaf—light； drifting at corners； blown across the wheels； silver–splashed； home or not home； gathered； scattered； squandered in separate scales； swept up； down； torn； sunk； assembled—and truth？
now to recollect by the fireside on the white square of marble。 from ivory depths words rising shed their blackness； blossom and penetrate。 fallen the book； in the flame； in the smoke； in the momentary sparks—or now voyaging； the marble square pendant； minarets beneath and the indian seas； while space rushes blue and stars glint—truth？ content with closeness？
lazy and indifferent the heron returns； the sky veils her stars； then bares them。
。。
4。 An Unwritten Novel
4。 an unwritten novel
such an expression of unhappiness was enough by itself to make one’s eyes slide above the paper’s edge to the poor woman’s face—insignificant without that look； almost a symbol of human destiny with it。 life’s what you see in people’s eyes； life’s what they learn； and； having learnt it； never； though they seek to hide it； cease to be aware of—what？ that life’s like that； it seems。 five faces opposite—five mature faces—and the knowledge in each face。 strange； though； how people want to conceal it！ marks of reticence are on all those faces： lips shut； eyes shaded； each one of the five doing something to hide or stultify his knowledge。 one smokes； another reads； a third checks entries in a pocket book； a fourth stares at the map of the line framed opposite； and the fifth—the terrible thing about the fifth is that she does nothing at all。 she looks at life。 ah； but my poor； unfortunate woman； do play the game—do； for all our sakes； conceal it！
as if she heard me； she looked up； shifted slightly in her seat and sighed。 she seemed to apologise and at the same time to say to me； “if only you knew！” then she looked at life again。 “but i do know；” i answered silently； glancing at the times for manners’ sake。 “i know the whole business。 ‘peace between germany and the allied powers was yesterday officially ushered in at paris—signor nitti； the italian prime minister—a passenger train at doncaster was in collision with a goods train。 。 。’ we all know—the times knows—but we pretend we don’t。” my eyes had once more crept over the paper’s rim she shuddered； twitched her arm queerly to the middle of her back and shook her head。 again i dipped into my great reservoir of life。 “take what you like；” i continued； “births； deaths； marriages； court circular； the habits of birds； leonardo da vinci； the sandhills murder； high wages and the cost of living—oh； take what you like；” i repeated； “it’s all in the times！” again with infinite weariness she moved her head from side to side until； like a top exhausted with spinning； it settled on her neck。
the times was no protection against such sorrow as hers。 but other human beings forbade intercourse。 the best thing to do against life was to fold the paper so that it made a perfect square； crisp； thick； impervious even to life。 this done； i glanced up quickly； armed with a shield of my own。 she pierced through my shield； she gazed into my eyes as if searching any sediment of courage at the depths of them and damping it to clay。 her twitch alone denied all hope； discounted all illusion。
so we rattled through surrey and across the border into sussex。 but with my eyes upon life i did not see that the other travellers had left； one by one； till； save for the man who read； we were alone together。 here was three bridges station。 we drew slowly down the platform and stopped。 was he going to leave us？ i prayed both ways—i prayed last that he might stay。 at that instant he roused himself； crumpled his paper contemptuously； like a thing done with； burst open the door； and left us alone。
the unhappy woman； leaning a little forward； palely and colourlessly addressed me—talked of stations and holidays； of brothers at eastbourne； and the time of year； which was； i forget now； early or late。 but at last looking from the window and seeing； i knew； only life； she breathed； “staying away—that’s the drawback of it—” ah； now we approached the catastrophe； “my sister–in–law”—the bitterness of her tone was like lemon on cold steel； and speaking； not to me； but to herself； she muttered； “nonsense； she would say—that’s what they all say；” and while she spoke she fidgeted as though the skin on her back were as a plucked fowl’s in a poulterer’s shop–window。
“oh； that cow！” she broke off nervously； as though the great wooden cow in the meadow had shocked her and saved her from some indiscretion。 then she shuddered； and then she made the awkward angular movement that i had seen before； as if； after the spasm； some spot between the shoulders burnt or itched。 then again she looked the most unhappy woman in the world； and i once more reproached her； though not with the same conviction； for if there were a reason； and if i knew the reason； the stigma was removed from life。
“sisters–in–law；” i said—
her lips pursed as if to spit venom at the word； pursed they remained。 all she did was to take her glove and rub hard at a spot on the window–pane。 she rubbed as if she would rub something out for ever—some stain； some indelible contamination。 indeed； the spot remained for all her rubbing； and back she sank with the shudder and the clutch of the arm i had e to expect。 something impelled me to take