|• Main||• Contacts|
"Rather! But I wonder why you don't mean it?"
"Because, I suppose, the other thing is better. What other reason could
there be? It's more complex, but it's better. THIS, this glissade, would
be damned scoundrelism. You know that, and I know that, though we might
be put to it to find a reason why. It would be swindling. Drawing the
pay of life and then not living. And besides--We're going to live, Ann
Veronica! Oh, the things we'll do, the life we'll lead! There'll be
trouble in it at times--you and I aren't going to run without friction.
But we've got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to
talk to each other. We sha'n't hang up on any misunderstanding. Not us.
And we're going to fight that old world down there. That old world that
had shoved up that silly old hotel, and all the rest of it.... If we
don't live it will think we are afraid of it.... Die, indeed! We're
going to do work; we're going to unfold about each other; we're going to
"Girls!" cried Ann Veronica.
"Boys!" said Capes.
"Both!" said Ann Veronica. "Lots of 'em!"
Capes chuckled. "You delicate female!"
"Who cares," said Ann Veronica, "seeing it's you? Warm, soft little
wonders! Of course I want them."
"All sorts of things we're going to do," said Capes; "all sorts of times
we're going to have. Sooner or later we'll certainly do something to
clean those prisons you told me about--limewash the underside of life.
You and I. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of
whitewash. Love anywhere. Anywhere! Moonlight and music--pleasing, you
know, but quite unnecessary. We met dissecting dogfish.... Do you
remember your first day with me?... Do you indeed remember? The smell
of decay and cheap methylated spirit!... My dear! we've had so many
moments! I used to go over the times we'd had together, the things we'd
said--like a rosary of beads. But now it's beads by the cask--like the
hold of a West African trader. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched
in one's hand. One doesn't want to lose a grain. And one must--some of
it must slip through one's fingers."
"I don't care if it does," said Ann Veronica. "I don't care a rap for
remembering. I care for you. This moment couldn't be better until the
next moment comes. That's how it takes me. Why should WE hoard? We
aren't going out presently, like Japanese lanterns in a gale. It's the
poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can't keep it up, who
Page 6 from 8: Back 1 2 3 4 5  7 8 Forward