Волны

           ’Yes,butsuddenlyonehearsaclocktick.Wewhohadbeenimmersedinthisworldbecameawareofanother.Itispainful.ItwasNevillewhochangedourtime.He,whohadbeenthinkingwiththeunlimitedtimeofthemind,whichstretchesinaflashfromShakespearetoourselves,pokedthefireandbegantolivebythatotherclockwhichmarkstheapproachofaparticularperson.Thewideanddignifiedsweepofhismindcontracted.Hebecameonthealert.Icouldfeelhimlisteningtosoundsinthestreet.Inotedhowhetouchedacushion.Fromthemyriadsofmankindandalltimepasthehadchosenoneperson,onemomentinparticular.Asoundwasheardinthehall.Whathewassayingwaveredintheairlikeanuneasyflame.Iwatchedhimdisentangleonefootstepfromotherfootsteps;waitforsomeparticularmarkofidentificationandglancewiththeswiftnessofasnakeatthehandleofthedoor.(Hencetheastonishingacutenessofhisperceptions;hehasbeentrainedalwaysbyoneperson.)Soconcentratedapassionshotoutotherslikeforeignmatterfromastill,sparklingfluid.Ibecameawareofmyownvagueandcloudynaturefullofsediment,fullofdoubt,fullofphrasesandnotestobemadeinpocket-books.Thefoldsofthecurtainbecamestill,statuesque;thepaperweightonthetablehardened;thethreadsonthecurtainsparkled;everythingbecamedefinite,external,asceneinwhichIhadnopart.Irose,therefore;Ilefthim.

           ’Heavens!howtheycaughtmeasIlefttheroom,thefangsofthatoldpain!thedesireforsomeonenotthere.Forwhom?Ididnotknowatfirst;thenrememberedPercival.