Bliss, and other stories

oolly, deliberately, over the round tables and basket chairs scattered about the glassed-in veranda. He pursed his lips-he mi

s, with little husks floating on the top-and rooting in a tin full of paper shavings for pieces of speckled biscuit, which they br

t that way. She played up to it; she gave herself little airs. Sometimes she even pointed at it, crying: “Isn’t that the most terrible thing you’ve ever seen! Isn’t that ghoulish!” It was on the other side of the veranda, after all . . . and besides it couldn’t touch her,

zoo-oo!” sounded the lift. The iron cage clanged open. Light dragging steps sounded across the hall, coming towards him. A hand, like a leaf, fell on his shoulder. A soft voice said: “Let’s go and sit over there-where we can see the drive. Th

up closer? It’s such miles

our shawl?

am, I’ve left it upstairs on the bed. Never mind. Plea

black lattice, huge “Presentation” clock that struck the hours at the half-hours, bundles of sticks and umbrellas and sunshades in the clasp of a brown wooden bear, past the two crippled palms, two ancient beggars at the foot of the staircase, up the marble

had thrown the carpets and the big white pillows over the balcony rails; the nets were looped up from the beds; on the writing-table there stood a pan of fluff and match-ends

nsieur? “ mocked

grey cobweb and went out, banging the door. The servant girl’s v

for the hot water. Isn’t it extraordinary? I must have told him about it sixty times at least, and sti

and sat down in the other

so little at lunch and i

orward to hand him the biscuits. He

ver bark and the clusters of cream-coloured flowers, I pulled down a head of them yesterday to smell, and the scent”-she shut her eyes at the memory and her voic

r. “Now how am I going t

the hot water-with letters on a

r you! Have they just come, Antonio?” Her thin hands flew up and

nio. “I took-a them from the postman myse

e. “There-those are mine, R

ut of his face. His striped linen jacket and his fl

n the table. He turned the ring, turned the signet ring on hi

the other, her head tilted back, her lips open, a brush of brig

. So many robins this year . . . maid most satisfactory . . . Indian Colonel . . . every grain of rice separate . . . very heavy fall of snow.” And her wide li

s covered with a wavy pattern of cat’s -paws; there is a thick, thick icing on the garden table; the withered pods of the laburnum tree are white tassels; only here and there in the ivy is a dark leaf showing. . . . Warming his back at the dining-room fire, the paper drying over a chair. Millie with the bacon. “Oh, if you please, Sir, there’s two little boys come as will do the steps and front for a shilling, shall I let them?” . . . And then flying lightly, ligh

ow I only wish I could send them something of this,” she cried, waving her lett

. It was very g

just like chopped hay. Oh, he

asket between them and rods and lines, th

th, they panted: “Yes, yes, we have been out in a little boat all day. We have c

e wore a silk scarf; his head, with his hair brushed back, was bare. And he kept mopping his forehead, rubbing his hands with a brilliant handkerchief. Her white skirt had a patch of wet; her neck and throat were stained a deep pink. When she lifted her a

ces charged with excitement beat against the glassed-in verand

not, picking her ear with a knitting needl

wave seemed to go over them. They gasped, gulped, s

have tea just as we are. Here-coffee. No-tea. No

was at the other end of the veranda, with his back turned, s

n ash-tray and sauntered over, his eyes

qui

ur

his arm the faintest pressure–“it’s not upstairs, it’s o

ders. Then, very stiff, he offered her his arm. She bowed sweetly to the people o

ca! “ said the

x. I say to my sister in the morning and at night whe

aughter of the Honeymoon Couple das

e thick, fleshy leaves of a cactus there rose an aloe stem loaded with pale flowers that looked as though they had been cut out of butter; light flashed upon the lifte

f and carried it over his arm. “Let us go down this path here. I feel so well today-

ir fell over their faces, they splashed one another. But suddenly, the smallest, who had a tub to herself, glanced up and saw who was looking. For a moment she seemed overcome with terror, then clumsily she struggled and strained out of her tub, and still holding her

much too young to . . . “ She looked up at him. She thought he looked pale-but wonde

en he met her glance, and smiling

that. Très rum! That was Robert all over. Nobody else but Robert could ever say such a thing. To be so w

very absurd, some

swered. And t

ad had enough. She did n

chairs. What a good thing you’ve got my cape; you won’t have to go upstairs for a rug. Th

don’t mind

you to drag after your invalid wife eve

st after half-past four. I’ll b

repeated, and she lay still in th

again. “Look here, would you like my

And she clasped the watch, the warm watch, the

limbing the hill that wound behind the town like a great rope looping the villas together. The dust lay thick. A carriage came bowling along driving towards the Excelsior. In it sat the Genera

es,” she sai

ave a loud caw an

ng. And the Countess threw up her hands and nodded so amiably th

ountain, into a poorer quarter. Here the road ran narrow and foul between high lean houses, the ground floors of which were scooped and hollowed into stables and carpenters’ shops. At a fountain ahead

gates to the doors a trellis of vines. The late sunlight, deep, golden, lay in the cup of the valley; there was a smell of charcoal in the air. In the gardens the men were cutting grapes. He watched a man standing in the greenish shade, raising up, holding a black cluster in one hand, taking the knife from his

he had to hurry if he was going to catch that train home. Over the gate, across a field, over the stile, into the lane, swinging along in the drifting rain and dusk .. . . Just home in time for a bath and a change before supper. . . . In the drawing-room; Jinnie is sitting pretty nearly in the fire. “Oh, Robert, I didn’t hear you come in. Did you have a good time? How nice you smell! A pr

he came. As he passed through the gates he saw her on the look-out. She got up, waved and slowl

re’s your watch, it’s been very good while you were away. Did

cape from her. “Yes, I will. Yes, it’s g

the lift she was c

he sat down on one of the red plush chairs while he rang and r

do you think

t to

gso began to yelp. “Caw! Caw! Caw!” came from the General. A Topknot darted out with one hand to her

taking off his apron–” And having ushered them in, the oily manager went to the door of the salon. “Very sorry you should have been troubled, ladies and g

r to the washstand, shook the bottle, pou

her while she obeyed. Then he took the glass, rinsed it

very nice.” She turned and thrust the piece of heliotrope in the lapel of his coat. “That,” she sai

oice like a sig

es

like two ships . . . . At last he heard the servant girl running along the corri

y evening. Oh, Robert, I was thinking wh

The American Woman was there showing Klaymongso a copy of the Saturday Evening Post . . . “We’re having a feast of reason and a flow of soul.” The Two Topknots were there feeling over the peaches and the

canvas shoes, served the soup, and Antoni

way, Antonio. We can’t eat soup. We can’t

said the Topknots, and they turned and wa

eered through her lorgnette. “Mr. Queet, the Gen

ood, Co

Couple had the

s. No, it’s not. Well, it’s looking at me with its eye, so it must

eating again. Is a

food, tha

pinach coming. You don’t like spinach, d

hed potatoes f

eet! Mr

Coun

’s egg’s too

Caw!

. Shall I have you an

ng the ring, turning the signet ring on his little finger. In the hall Mr. Queet hovers. “I thought you might not want to wait for th

hope . . .

n,” sa

fter them and sla

n or out into the garden? Or perhaps you might smoke a cigar on the balcony. It’s

’ll si

oving about in the room, lightly, lightly, moving and ru

er hand and kisses the p

moon hangs over the garden. Far away lightning flutters-flutters like a wing-fl

of a piano. And once the American Woman, opening the French window to let Kl

ors; the two beds seem to float. She is asleep. He sees her through the nets, half sitting, banked up with pillows, her white hands crossed on the sheet, her white chee

ummer. The virginia creepe

’m-show. Better be frank about these things.” “Oh, certainly . . . . “ “And hang it all, old man, what’s to prevent you going with her? It isn’t as though you’ve got a regular job like us

could not go alone. You see-you’re everything. You’re bread and wine, Robert, bread and wine

irring. Does sh

ogl

in her sleep. They haven’t

. Are yo

you want

e’s a wretched mosquito inside my net–I can hear him singing.

itches on the light, lifts the net. “Where

do feel such a fiend to have dragged

he hovers in his blue and white

Was he a

nd dipped his fingers in water. “Are you a

our hand.” She turns his signet ring. “Why weren’t you asleep? Boogles, liste

s her. He tucks her in,

he wh