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- Джон Фоулз
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- Коллекционер
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Everything
’
s
changing
.
I
keep
on
thinking
of
him
:
of
things
he
said
and
I
said
,
and
how
we
neither
of
us
really
understood
what
the
other
meant
.
No
,
he
understood
,
I
think
.
He
counts
possibilities
so
much
faster
than
I
can
.
I
’
m
growing
up
so
quickly
down
here
.
Like
a
mushroom
.
Or
is
it
that
I
’
ve
lost
my
sense
of
balance
?
Perhaps
it
’
s
all
a
dream
.
I
jab
myself
with
the
pencil
.
But
perhaps
that
’
s
a
dream
,
too
.
If
he
came
to
the
door
now
I
should
run
into
his
arms
.
I
should
want
him
to
hold
my
hand
for
weeks
.
I
mean
I
believe
I
could
love
him
in
the
other
way
,
his
way
,
now
.
October
23rd
The
curse
is
with
me
.
I
’
m
a
bitch
to
C
.
No
mercy
.
It
’
s
the
lack
of
privacy
on
top
of
everything
else
.
I
made
him
let
me
walk
in
the
cellar
this
morning
.
I
think
I
could
hear
a
tractor
working
.
And
sparrows
.
So
daylight
,
sparrows
.
An
aeroplane
.
I
was
crying
.
My
emotions
are
all
topsy
-
turvy
,
like
frightened
monkeys
in
a
cage
.
I
felt
I
was
going
mad
last
night
,
so
I
wrote
and
wrote
and
wrote
myself
into
the
other
world
.
To
escape
in
spirit
,
if
not
in
fact
.
To
prove
it
still
exists
.
I
’
ve
been
making
sketches
for
a
painting
I
shall
do
when
I
’
m
free
.
A
view
of
a
garden
through
a
door
.
It
sounds
silly
in
words
.
But
I
see
it
as
something
very
special
,
all
black
,
umber
,
dark
,
dark
grey
,
mysterious
angular
forms
in
shadow
leading
to
the
distant
soft
honey
-
whitish
square
of
the
light
-
filled
door
.
A
sort
of
horizontal
shaft
.
I
sent
him
away
after
supper
and
I
’
ve
been
finishing
Emma
.
I
am
Emma
Woodhouse
.
I
feel
for
her
,
of
her
and
in
her
.
I
have
a
different
sort
of
snobbism
,
but
I
understand
her
snobbism
.
Her
priggishness
.
I
admire
it
.
I
know
she
does
wrong
things
,
she
tries
to
organize
other
people
’
s
lives
,
she
can
’
t
see
Mr
.
Knightley
is
a
man
in
a
million
.
She
’
s
temporarily
silly
,
yet
all
the
time
one
knows
she
’
s
basically
intelligent
,
alive
.
Creative
,
determined
to
set
the
highest
standards
.
A
real
human
being
.
Her
faults
are
my
faults
:
her
virtues
I
must
make
my
virtues
.
And
all
day
I
’
ve
been
thinking
—
I
shall
write
some
more
about
G
.
P
.
tonight
.
There
was
the
time
I
took
some
of
my
work
round
for
him
to
look
at
.
I
took
the
things
I
thought
he
would
like
(
not
just
the
clever
-
clever
things
,
like
the
perspective
of
Ladymont
)
.
He
didn
’
t
say
a
thing
as
he
looked
through
them
.
