"Whenyouhavethreewagonstolookafterallnight,youaresometimessotiredyoucanhardlystand。AtfirstwhenIwalkedalongdrivingmywagonsinthenightitwasglorious;thestarshadneverlookedsobeautifultome;andonthedarknightswhenwerodethroughthebushtherewerewill—
o’—the—wispsdancingoneachsideoftheroad。Ifoundoutthateventhedampanddarkarebeautiful。ButIsoonchanged,andsawnothingbuttheroadandmyoxen。Ionlywishedforasmoothpieceofroad,sothatI
mightsitatthefrontanddoze。Attheplaceswhereweoutspannedthereweresometimesrareplantsandflowers,thefestoonshangingfromthebush—
trees,andnutsandinsects,suchasweneverseehere;butafteralittlewhileIneverlookedatthem——Iwastootired。
"IateasmuchasIcould,andthenlaydownonmyfaceunderthewagontilltheboycametowakemetoinspan,andthenwedroveonagainallnight;soitwent,soitwent。IthinksometimeswhenIwalkedbymyoxenIcalledtotheminmysleep,forIknowIthoughtofnothing;Iwaslikeananimal。Mybodywasstrongandwelltowork,butmybrainwasdead。Ifyouhavenotfeltit,Lyndall,youcannotunderstandit。Youmaywork,andwork,andwork,tillyouareonlyabody,notasoul。Now,whenIseeoneofthoseevil—lookingmenthatcomefromEurope——navvies,withthebeast—
like,sunkenface,differentfromanyKaffer’s——Iknowwhatbroughtthatlookintotheireyes;andifIhaveonlyoneinchoftobaccoIgivethemhalf。Itiswork,grinding,mechanicalwork,thattheyortheirancestorshavedone,thathasmadethemintobeasts。Youmayworkaman’sbodysothathissouldies。Workisgood。Ihaveworkedattheoldfarmfromthesun’srisingtillitssetting,butIhavehadtimetothink,andtimetofeel。Youmayworkamansothatallbuttheanimalinhimisgone;andthatgrowsstrongerwithphysicallabour。
"Youmayworkamantillheisadevil。Iknowit,becauseIhavefeltit。
Youwillneverunderstandthechangethatcameoverme。NoonebutIwilleverknowhowgreatitwas。ButIwasnevermiserable;whenIcouldkeepmyoxenfromstickingfast,andwhenIcouldfindaplacetoliedownin,I
hadallIwanted。AfterIhaddriveneightmonthsarainyseasoncame。
Foreighteenhoursoutofthetwenty—fourweworkedinthewet。Themudwentuptotheaxlessometimes,andwehadtodigthewheelsout,andweneverwentfarinaday。Mymastersworeatmemorethanever,butwhenhehaddonehealwaysofferedmehisbrandy—flask。WhenIfirstcamehehadoffereditme,andIhadalwaysrefused;butnowIdrankasmyoxendidwhenIgavethemwater——withoutthinking。AtlastIboughtbrandyformyselfwheneverwepassedanhotel。
"OneSundayweoutspannedonthebanksofaswollenrivertowaitforitsgoingdown。Itwasdrizzlingstill,soIlayunderthewagononthemud。
Therewasnodryplaceanywhere;andallthedungwaswet,sotherewasnofiretocookfood。Mylittleflaskwasfilledwithbrandy,andIdranksomeandwenttosleep。WhenIwokeitwasdrizzlingstill,soIdranksomemore。Iwasstiffandcold;andmymaster,wholaybyme,offeredmehisflask,becauseminewasempty。Idranksome,andthenIthoughtI
wouldgoandseeiftheriverwasgoingdown。IrememberthatIwalkedtotheroad,anditseemedtobegoingawayfromme。WhenIwokeupIwaslyingbyalittlebushonthebankoftheriver。Itwasafternoon;allthecloudshadgone,andtheskywasdeepblue。TheBushmanboywasgrillingribsatthefire。Helookedatmeandgrinnedfromeartoear。’Masterwasalittlenice,’hesaid,’andlaydownintheroad。Somethingmightrideovermaster,soIcarriedhimthere。’Hegrinnedatmeagain。Itwasasthoughhesaid,’YouandIarecomrades。Ihavelaininaroad,too。I
knowallaboutit。’
"WhenIturnedmyheadfromhimIsawtheearth,sopureaftertherain,sogreen,sofresh,soblue;andIwasadrunkencarrier,whomhisleaderhadpickedupinthemud,andlaidattheroadsidetosleepouthisdrink。I
remembermyoldlife,andIrememberyou。Isawhow,oneday,youwouldreadinthepapers:’AGermancarrier,namedWaldoFarber,waskilledthroughfallingfromhiswagon,beinginstantlycrushedunderthewheel。
Deceasedwassupposedtohavebeendrunkatthetimeoftheaccident。’
Therearethosenoticesinthepapereverymonth。Isatup,andItookthebrandy—flaskoutofmypocket,andIflungitasfarasIcouldintothedarkwater。TheHottentotboyrandowntoseeifhecouldcatchit;ithadsunktothebottom。Ineverdrankagain。But,Lyndall,sinlooksmuchmoreterribletothosewholookatitthantothosewhodoit。Aconvict,oramanwhodrinks,seemssomethingsofaroffandhorriblewhenweseehim;buttohimselfheseemsquiteneartous,andlikeus。Wewonderwhatkindofacreatureheis;butheisjustwe,ourselves。Weareonlythewood,theknifethatcarvesonusisthecircumstance。
"IdonotknowwhyIkeptonworkingsohardforthatmaster。Ithinkitwasastheoxencomeeverydayandstandbytheyokes;theydonotknowwhy。PerhapsIwouldhavebeenwithhimstill;butonedaywestartedwithloadsfortheDiamondFields。Theoxenwereverythinnow,andtheyhadbeenstandingaboutintheyokealldaywithoutfood,whilethewagonswerebeingloaded。Notfarfromthetownwasahill。Whenwecametothefootthefirstwagonstuckfast。Itriedforalittlewhiletourgetheoxen,butIsoonsawtheonespancouldneverpullitup。Iwenttotheotherwagontoloosenthatspantojointhemoninfront,butthetransport—
rider,whowaslyingatthebackofthewagon,jumpedout。
"’Theyshallbringitupthehill;andifhalfofthemdieforittheyshalldoitalone,’hesaid。
"Hewasnotdrunk,butinbadtemper,forhehadbeendrunkthenightbefore。Hesworeatme,andtoldmetotakethewhipandhelphim。Wetriedforalittletime,thenItoldhimitwasnouse,theycouldneverdoit。Hesworelouderandcalledtotheleaderstocomeonwiththeirwhips,andtogethertheylashed。Therewasoneox,ablackox,sothinthattheridgeofhisbackbonealmostcutthroughhisflesh。
"’Itisyou,devil,isit,thatwillnotpull?’thetransport—ridersaid。
’Iwillshowyousomething。’Helookedlikeadevil。
"Hetoldtheboystoleaveoffflogging,andheheldtheoxbythehorn,andtookuparoundstoneandknockeditsnosewithittillthebloodcame。
Whenhehaddonetheycalledtotheoxenandtookuptheirwhipsagain,andtheoxenstrainedwiththeirbacksbent,butthewagondidnotmoveaninch。
"’Soyouwon’t,won’tyou?’hesaid。I’llhelpyou。’
"Hetookouthisclasp—knife,andranitintothelegofthetremblingoxthreetimes,uptothehilt。Thenheputtheknifeinhispocket,andtheytooktheirwhips。Theoxen’sflanksquivered,andtheyfoamedatthemouth。Straining,theymovedthewagonafewfeetforward,thenstoodwithbentbackstokeepitfromslidingback。Fromtheblackox’snostrilsfoamandbloodwerestreamingontotheground。Itturneditsheadinitsanguishandlookedatmewithitsgreatstartingeyes。Itwasprayingforhelpinitsagonyandweakness,andtheytooktheirwhipsagain。Thecreaturebellowedaloud。IfthereisaGod,itwascallingtoitsMakerforhelp。Thenastreamofclearbloodburstfrombothnostrils;itfellontotheground,andthewagonslippedback。Themanwalkeduptoit。
"’Youaregoingtoliedown,devil,areyou?We’llseeyoudon’ttakeittooeasy。’
"Thethingwasjustdying。Heopenedhisclasp—knifeandstoopeddownoverit。IdonotknowwhatIdidthen。ButafterwardIknowIhadhimonthestones,andIwaskneelingonhim。Theboysdraggedmeoff。Iwishtheyhadnot。Ilefthimstandinginthesandintheroad,shakinghimself,andIwalkedbacktothetown。Itooknothingfromthataccursedwagon,soI
hadonlytwoshillings。Butitdidnotmatter。ThenextdayIgotworkatawholesalestore。Myworkwastopackandunpackgoods,andtocarryboxes,andIhadtoworkfromsixinthemorningtosixintheevening;soIhadplentyoftime。
"Ihiredalittleroom,andsubscribedtoalibrary,soIhadeverythingI
needed;andintheweekofChristmasholidaysIwenttoseethesea。I
walkedallnight,Lyndall,toescapetheheat,andalittleaftersunriseI
gottothetopofahighhill。Beforemewasalong,low,blue,monotonousmountain。Iwalkedlookingatit,butIwasthinkingoftheseaIwantedtosee。AtlastIwonderedwhatthatcuriousbluethingmightbe;thenitstruckmeitwasthesea!Iwouldhaveturnedbackagain,onlyIwastootired。Iwonderifallthethingswelongtosee——thechurches,thepictures,themeninEurope——willdisappointusso!YouseeIhaddreamedofitsolong。WhenIwasalittleboy,mindingsheepbehindthekopje,I
usedtoseethewavesstretchingoutasfarastheeyecouldreachinthesunlight。Mysea!Istheideaalwaysmorebeautifulthanthereal?
"Igottothebeachthatafternoon,andIsawthewaterrunupanddownonthesand,andIsawthewhitefoambreakers;theywerepretty,butI
thoughtIwouldgobackthenextday。Itwasnotmysea。
"ButIbegantolikeitwhenIsatbyitthatnightinthemoonlight;andthenextdayIlikeditbetter;andbeforeIleftIlovedit。Itwasnotliketheskyandstars,thattalkofwhathasnobeginningandnoend;butitissohuman。OfallthethingsIhaveeverseen,onlytheseaislikeahumanbeing;theskyisnot,northeearth。Buttheseaisalwaysmoving,alwayssomethingdeepinitselfisstirringit。Itneverrests。Itisalwayswanting,wanting,wanting。Ithurrieson;andthenitcreepsbackslowlywithouthavingreached,moaning。Itisalwaysaskingaquestion,anditnevergetstheanswer。Icanhearitinthedayandinthenight;
thewhitefoambreakersaresayingthatwhichIthink。Iwalkalonewiththemwhenthereisnoonetoseeme,andIsingwiththem。Iliedownonthesandandwatchthemwithmyeyeshalfshut。Theskyisbetter,butitissohighaboveourheads。Ilovethesea。Sometimeswemustlookdowntoo。AfterfivedaysIwentbacktoGrahamstown。
"Ihadgloriousbooks,andinthenightIcouldsitinmylittleroomandreadthem;butIwaslonely。Booksarenotthesamethingswhenyouarelivingamongpeople。Icannottellwhy,buttheyaredead。Onthefarmtheywouldhavebeenlivingbeingstome;buthere,wherethereweresomanypeopleaboutme,Iwantedsomeonetobelongtome。Iwaslonely。I
wantedsomethingthatwasfleshandblood。Onceonthisfarmtherecameastranger;Ididnotaskhisname,buthesatamongthekarooandtalkedwithme。Now,whereverIhavetravelledIhavelookedforhim——inhotels,instreets,inpassengerwagonsastheyrushedin,throughtheopenwindowsofhousesIhavelookedforhim,butIhavenotfoundhim——neverheardavoicelikehis。OnedayIwenttotheBotanicGardens。Itwasahalf—
holiday,andthebandwastoplay。Istoodinthelongraisedavenueandlookeddown。Thereweremanyflowers,andladiesandchildrenwerewalkingaboutbeautifullydressed。Atlastthemusicbegan。Ihadnotheardsuchmusicbefore。
"Atfirstitwasslowandeven,liketheeverydaylife,whenwewalkthroughitwithoutthoughtorfeeling;thenitgrewfaster,thenitpaused,hesitated,thenitwasquitestillforaninstant,andthenitburstout。
Lyndall,theymadeheavenrightwhentheymadeitallmusic。Ittakesyouupandcarriesyouaway,away,tillyouhavethethingsyoulongedfor,youareupclosetothem。Youhavegotoutintoalarge,free,openplace。I
couldnotseeanythingwhileitwasplaying;Istoodwithmyheadagainstmytree;but,whenitwasdone,Isawthattherewereladiessittingclosetomeonawoodenbench,andthestrangerwhohadtalkedtomethatdayinthekaroowassittingbetweenthem。Theladieswereverypretty,andtheirdressesbeautiful。Idonotthinktheyhadbeenlisteningtothemusic,fortheyweretalkingandlaughingverysoftly。Iheardalltheysaid,andcouldevensmelltheroseonthebreastofone。Iwasafraidhewouldseeme;soIwenttotheothersideofthetree,andsoontheygotupandbegantopaceupanddownintheavenue。
"Allthetimethemusicplayedtheychatted,andhecarriedonhisarmthescarfoftheprettiestlady。Ididnothearthemusic;Itriedtocatchthesoundofhisvoiceeachtimehewentby。WhenIwaslisteningtothemusicIdidnotknowIwasbadlydressed;nowIfeltsoashamedofmyself。
Ineverknewbeforewhatalow,horriblethingIwas,dressedintancord。
Thatdayonthefarm,whenwesatonthegroundunderthethorn—trees,I
thoughthequitebelongedtome;now,Isawhewasnotmine。Buthewasstillasbeautiful。Hisbrowneyesaremorebeautifulthananyone’seyes,exceptyours。
"Atlasttheyturnedtogo,andIwalkedafterthem。Whentheygotoutofthegatehehelpedtheladiesintoaphaeton,andstoodforamomentwithhisfootonthesteptalkingtothem。Hehadalittlecaneinhishand,andanItaliangreyhoundranafterhim。Justwhentheydroveawayoneoftheladiesdroppedherwhip。
"’Pickitup,fellow,’shesaid;andwhenIbroughtithershethrewsixpenceontheground。Imighthavegonebacktothegardenthen;butI
didnotwantmusic;Iwantedclothes,andtobefashionableandfine。I
feltthatmyhandswerecoarse,andthatIwasvulgar。Inevertriedtoseehimagain。
"Istayedinmysituationfourmonthsafterthat,butIwasnothappy。I
hadnorest。Thepeopleaboutmepressedonme,andmademedissatisfied。
Icouldnotforgetthem。EvenwhenIdidnotseethemtheypressedonme,andmadememiserable。Ididnotlovebooks;Iwantedpeople。WhenI
walkedhomeundertheshadytreesinthestreetIcouldnotbehappy,forwhenIpassedthehousesIheardmusic,andsawfacesbetweenthecurtains。
Ididnotwantanyofthem,butIwantedsomeoneformine,forme。I
couldnothelpit。Iwantedafinerlife。
"Onlyonedaysomethingmademehappy。Anursecametothestorewithalittlegirlbelongingtooneofourclerks。Whilethemaidwentintotheofficetogiveamessagetoitsfather,thelittlechildstoodlookingatme。Presentlyshecameclosetomeandpeepedupintomyface。
"’Nicecurls,prettycurls,’shesaid;’Ilikecurls。’
"Shefeltmyhairallover,withherlittlehands。WhenIputoutmyarmsheletmetakeherandsitheronmyknee。Shekissedmewithhersoftmouth。Wewerehappytillthenurse—girlcameandshookher,andaskedherifshewasnotashamedtositonthekneeofthatstrangeman。ButIdonotthinkmylittleoneminded。Shelaughedatmeasshewentout。
"IftheworldwasallchildrenIcouldlikeit;butmenandwomendrawmesostrangely,andthenpressmeaway,tillIaminagony。Iwasnotmeanttoliveamongpeople。Perhapssomeday,whenIamgrownolder,IwillbeabletogoandliveamongthemandlookatthemasIlookattherocks,andbushes,withoutlettingthemdisturbme,andtakemyselffromme;butnotnow。SoIgrewmiserable;akindoffeverseemedtoeatme;Icouldnotrest,orread,orthink;soIcamebackhere。IknewyouwerenotherebutitseemedasthoughIshouldbeneareryou;anditisyouIwant——youthattheotherpeoplesuggesttome,butcannotgive。"
Hehadfilledallthesheetshehadtaken,andnowlifteddownthelastfromthemantelpiece。Emhaddroppedasleep,andlayslumberingpeacefullyontheskinbeforethefire。Outofdoorsthestormstillraged;butinafitfulmanner,asthoughgrowinghalfwearyofitself。Hebentoverhispaperagain,witheagerflushedcheek,andwroteon。
"Ithasbeenadelightfuljourney,thisjourneyhome。Ihavewalkedonfoot。Theeveningbeforelast,whenitwasjustsunset,Iwasalittlefootsoreandthirsty,andwentoutoftheroadtolookforwater。Iwentdownintoadeeplittlekloof。Sometreesranalongthebottom,andI
thoughtIshouldfindwaterthere。ThesunhadquitesetwhenIgottothebottomofit。Itwasverystill——notaleafwasstirringanywhere。InthebedofthemountaintorrentIthoughtImightfindwater。Icametothebank,andleapeddownintothedrybed。TheflooronwhichIstoodwasoffinewhitesand,andthebanksroseoneverysidelikethewallsofaroom。
"Abovetherewasaprecipiceofrocks,andatinystreamofwateroozedfromthemandfellslowlyontotheflatstonebelow。Eachdropyoucouldhearfalllikealittlesilverbell。Therewasoneamongthetreesonthebankthatstoodcutoutagainstthewhitesky。Alltheothertreesweresilent;butthisoneshookandtrembledagainstthesky。Everythingelsewasstill;butthoseleaveswerequivering,quivering。Istoodonthesand;Icouldnotgoaway。Whenitwasquitedark,andthestarshadcome,Icreptout。Doesitseemstrangetoyouthatitshouldhavemademesohappy?ItisbecauseIcannottellyouhownearIfelttothingsthatwecannotseebutwealwaysfeel。Tonighthasbeenawild,stormynight。I
havebeenwalkingacrosstheplainforhoursinthedark。Ihavelikedthewind,becauseIhaveseemedforcingmywaythroughtoyou。Iknewyouwerenothere,butIwouldhearofyou。WhenIusedtositonthetransportwagonhalf—sleeping,Iusedtostartawakebecauseyourhandswereonme。
Inmylodgings,manynightsIhaveblownthelightout,andsatinthedark,thatImightseeyourfacestartoutmoredistinctly。Sometimesitwasthelittlegirl’sfacewhousedtocometomebehindthekopjewhenI
mindedsheep,andsitbymeinherbluepinafore;sometimesitwasolder。
Iloveboth。Iamveryhelpless;Ishallneverdoanything;butyouwillwork,andIwilltakeyourworkformine。SometimessuchasuddengladnessseizesmewhenIrememberthatsomewhereintheworldyouarelivingandworking。Youaremyveryown;nothingelseismyownso。WhenIhavefinishedIamgoingtolookatyourroomdoor——"
Hewrote;andthewind,whichhadspentitsfury,moanedroundandroundthehouse,mostlikeatiredchildwearywithcrying。
Emwokeup,andsatbeforethefire,rubbinghereyes,andlistening,asitsobbedaboutthegables,andwanderedawayoverthelongstonewalls。
"Howquietithasgrownnow,"shesaid,andsighedherself,partlyfromwearinessandpartlyfromsympathywiththetiredwind。Hedidnotanswerher;hewaslostinhisletter。
Sheroseslowlyafteratime,andrestedherhandonhisshoulder。
"Youhavemanyletterstowrite,"shesaid。
"No,"heanswered;"itisonlyonetoLyndall。"
Sheturnedaway,andstoodlongbeforethefirelookingintoit。Ifyouhaveadeadlyfruittogive,itwillnotgrowsweeterbykeeping。
"Waldo,dear,"shesaid,puttingherhandonhis,"leaveoffwriting。"
Hethrewbackthedarkhairfromhisforeheadandlookedather。
"Itisnousewritinganymore,"shesaid。
"Whynot?"heasked。
Sheputherhandoverthepapershehadwritten。
"Waldo,"shesaid,"Lyndallisdead。"
Chapter2。XII。Gregory’sWomanhood。
Slowlyovertheflatcameacart。OnthebackseatsatGregory,hisarmsfolded,hishatdrawnoverhiseyes。AKafferboysatonthefrontseatdriving,andathisfeetsatDoss,who,nowandagain,liftedhisnoseandeyesabovethelevelofthesplashboard,tolookatthesurroundingcountry;andthen,withanexceedinglyknowingwinkofhislefteye,turnedtohiscompanions,therebyintimatingthatheclearlyperceivedhiswhereabouts。Noonenoticedthecartcoming。Waldo,whowasatworkathiscarpenter’stableinthewagon—house,sawnothing,tillchancingtolookdownheperceivedDossstandingbeforehim,thelegstrembling,thelittlenosewrinkled,andaseriesofshortsuffocatingbarksgivingutterancetohisjoyatreunion。
Em,whoseeyeshadachedwithlookingoutacrosstheplain,wasnowatworkinabackroom,andknewnothingtill,lookingup,shesawGregory,withhisstrawhatandblueeyes,standinginthedoorway。Hegreetedherquietly,hunghishatupinitsoldplacebehindthedoor,andforanychangeinhismannerorappearancehemighthavebeengoneonlythedaybeforetofetchlettersfromthetown。Onlyhisbeardwasgone,andhisfacewasgrownthinner。Hetookoffhisleathergaiters,saidtheafternoonwashotandtheroadsdusty,andaskedforsometea。Theytalkedofwool,andthecattle,andthesheep,andEmgavehimthepileoflettersthathadcomeforhimduringthemonthsofabsence,butofthethingthatlayattheirheartsneithersaidanything。Thenhewentouttolookatthekraals,andatsupperEmgavehimhotcakesandcoffee。Theytalkedabouttheservants,andthenatetheirmealinquiet。Sheaskednoquestions。
WhenitwasendedGregorywentintothefrontroom,andlayinthedarkonthesofa。
"Doyounotwantalight?"Emasked,venturingtolookin。
"No,"heanswered;thenpresentlycalledtoher,"Comeandsithere;Iwanttotalktoyou。"
Shecameandsatonafootstoolnearhim。
"Doyouwishtohearanything?"heasked。
Shewhispered:
"Yes,ifitdoesnothurtyou。"
"Whatdifferencedoesitmaketome?"hesaid。"IfItalkoramsilent,isthereanychange?"
Yethelayquietforalongtime。Thelightthroughtheopendoorshowedhimtoher,wherehelay,withhisarmthrownacrosshiseyes。Atlasthespoke。Perhapsitwasarelieftohimtospeak。
ToBloemfonteinintheFreeState,towhichthroughanagenthehadtracedthem,Gregoryhadgone。AtthehotelwhereLyndallandherstrangerhadstayedheputup;hewasshowntheveryroominwhichtheyhadslept。Thecolouredboywhohaddriventhemtothenexttowntoldhiminwhichhousetheyhadboarded,andGregorywenton。Inthattownhefoundtheyhadleftthecart,andboughtaspiderandfourgreys,andGregory’sheartrejoiced。
Nowindeeditwouldbeeasytotracetheircourse。Andheturnedhisstepsnorthward。
Atthefarmhouseswherehestoppedtheoomsandtantesrememberedclearlythespiderwithitsfourgreyhorses。AtoneplacetheBoer—wifetoldhowthetall,blue—eyedEnglishmanhadboughtmilk,andaskedthewaytothenextfarm。AtthenextfarmtheEnglishmanhadboughtabunchofflowers,andgivenhalfacrownforthemtothelittlegirl。Itwasquitetrue;theBoer—mothermadehergetitoutoftheboxandshowit。Atthenextplacetheyhadslept。Heretheytoldhimthatthegreatbulldog,whohatedallstrangers,hadwalkedinintheeveningandlaiditsheadinthelady’slap。Soateveryplaceheheardsomething,andtracedthemstepbystep。
AtonedesolatefarmtheBoerhadagooddealtotell。Theladyhadsaidshelikedawagonthatstoodbeforethedoor。WithoutaskingthepricetheEnglishmanhadofferedahundredandfiftypoundsfortheoldthing,andboughtoxenworthtenpoundsforsixteen。TheDutchmanchuckled,forhehadtheSalt—riem’smoneyintheboxunderhisbed。Gregorylaughedtoo,insilence;hecouldnotlosesightofthemnow,soslowlytheywouldhavetomovewiththatcumbrousox—wagon。Yet,whenthateveningcame,andhereachedalittlewaysideinn,noonecouldtellhimanythingofthetravellers。
Themaster,asurlycreature,halfstupidwithBoer—brandy,satonthebenchbeforethedoorsmoking。Gregorysatbesidehim,questioning,buthesmokedon。Herememberednothingofsuchstrangers。Howshouldheknowwhohadbeentheremonthsandmonthsbefore?Hesmokedon。Gregory,veryweary,triedtowakehismemory,saidthattheladyhewasseekingforwasverybeautiful,hadalittlemouth,andtiny,verytiny,feet。Themanonlysmokedonassullenlyasatfirst。Whatwerelittle,verylittle,mouthsandfeettohim。Buthisdaughterleanedoutinthewindowabove。