Коллекционер

           Itwasanicegarden,itrunsbacktoafieldwhichhadlucernethen,lovelystuffforbutterflies.Thefieldgoesuptoahill(thatisnorth).EasttherearewoodsonbothsidesoftheroadrunningupfromthevalleytowardsLewes.Westtherearefields.Thereisafarmhouseaboutthree-quartersofamileawaydownthehill,thenearesthouse.Southyouhaveafineview,exceptitwasblockedbythefronthedgeandsometrees.Alsoagoodgarage.

           Iwentbacktothehouseandgotthekeyoutandwentdownintothecellarsagain.Theinneronemusthavebeenfiveorsixfeetundertheearth.Itwasdamp,thewallslikewetwoodinwinter,Icouldn’tseeverywellbecauseIonlyhadmylighter.Itwasabitfrightening,butIamnotthesuperstitioustype.

           SomemightsayIwasluckytofindtheplacefirstgo,howeverIwouldhavefoundsomewhereelsesoonerorlater.Ihadthemoney.Ihadthewill.Funny,whatCrutchleycalled"push."Ididn’tpushattheAnnexe,itdidn’tsuitme.ButIwouldliketoseeCrutchleyorganizewhatIorganizedlast5summerandcarryitthrough.Iamnotgoingtoblowmyowntrumpet,butitwasnosmallthing.

           Ireadinthepapertheotherday(SayingoftheDay)—"WhatWateristotheBody,PurposeistotheMind."Thatisverytrue,inmyhumbleopinion.WhenMirandabecamethepurposeofmylifeIshouldsayIwasatleastasgoodasthenextman,asitturnedout.

           Ihadtogivefivehundredmorethantheyaskedintheadvert,otherswereafterit,everyonefleecedme.Thesurveyor,thebuilder,thedecorators,thefurniturepeopleinLewesIgottofurnishit.Ididn’tcare,whyshouldI,moneywasnoobject.IgotlonglettersfromAuntAnnie,whichIwrotebackto,givingherfigureshalfwhatIreallypaid.