Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (188 page)

For
nothing!
And
nothing
became
symbolised
by
them.
They
stood for
it:
they
were
Nothing;
and,
with
that,
vanity
was
in
possession again,
for
I
stood
for
something
as
against
their
nothing;
and
all
the coil
of
pride
and
shame
and
payment
had
to
recommence.

They
came,
and
for
a
time
resentment
was
covered
by
curiosity;
and while
we
talked
together
I
found
myself
glancing
at
one
and
the other
with
the
curiosity
of
him
who
peeps
at
a
camel
or
a
criminal.

There
was
a
difference
in
them,
but
it
was
not
essential;
it
was
only the
change
which
comes
with
the
passage
of
time.

All
that
I
remembered
was
here,
but
more
pronounced.
What
had been
quietude
had
deepened
to
tranquillity.
All
that
sense
of
certainty and
command
was
more
certain
and
commanding,
for
ease
and
power and
good
humour
was
as
unconsidered
and
native
a
part
of
them
as their
limbs.

He
had
been
great
in
bulk,
he
was
now
huge.
He
had
filled
out, and
filled
in,
and
he
strode
and
towered
like
a
mountain.

Her
I
remembered
as
one
remembers
a
day
of
April
beauty
and promise,
various
with
that
uncertainty
which
troubles
and
delights. Now
summer
was
on
her
with
all
its
gorgeous
endowment.

She
was
a
rest
to
the
eye.
She
was
a
benediction
to
the
senses.
She calmed
desire.
For
to
look
on
her
was
to
desire
no
more,
and
yet
to be
satisfied.
Her
beauty
was
so
human,
her
humanity
so
beautiful, that
she
could
embrace
the
thought
that
would
embrace
her;
and return
it
absolved,
purified,
virgin
again
to
the
lust
that
sent
it
out.

There
are
beings
in
this
world
who
are
secured
against
every
machination
of
evil.
They
live
as
by
divine
right,
as
under
divine
protection; and
when
malice
looks
in
their
faces
it
is
abashed
and
must
retreat without
harming
them.
All
the
actions
of
these
are
harmonious
and harmless
and
assured;
and
in
no
circumstances
can
they
be
put
in
the wrong,
nor
turned
from
their
purpose.
Their
trust
is
boundless,
and, as
they
cannot
be
harmed,
so
it
cannot
be
betrayed.
They
are
given their
heaven
on
earth
as
others
are
here
given
their
hell;
and
what they
get
they
must
have
deserved;
and
they
must
indeed
be
close
to divinity.

Of
such
were
these,
and
I
hated
them
with
a
powerlessness
which was
a
rage
of
humility;
and
I
mourned
for
myself
as
the
hare
may mourn
who
is
caught
in
a
trap
and
knows
that
it
will
kill
him.

I
did
not
hate
them,
for
they
could
not
be
hated.
My
egotism envied
them.
My
shame,
and,
from
it,
my
resentment,
was
too
recent to
be
laid,
though
the
eyes
of
a
dove
looked
into
mine
and
the
friendliest
hand
was
on
my
shoulder.
Something
obstinate
within
my
soul, something
over
which
I
had
no
charge,
stiffened
against
them;
and if
one
part
of
my
nature
yearned
for
surrender
and
peace
the
other part
held
it
back,
and
so
easily
that
there
was
never
a
question
as
to where
obedience
must
go.