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- Стр. 17/57
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Little
inclination
was
left
to
me
,
at
first
,
for
any
solitary
visit
to
my
accustomed
palace
,
the
pleasures
of
which
I
had
so
recently
tasted
in
company
;
and
yet
after
a
minute
or
two
I
found
myself
,
from
habit
,
sneaking
off
there
much
as
usual
.
Presently
I
became
aware
of
a
certain
solace
and
consolation
in
my
newly
-
recovered
independence
of
action
.
Quit
of
all
female
whims
and
fanciful
restrictions
,
I
rowed
,
sailed
,
or
punted
,
just
as
I
pleased
;
in
the
Chocolate
-
room
I
cracked
and
nibbled
the
hard
sticks
,
with
a
certain
contempt
for
those
who
preferred
the
soft
,
veneered
article
;
and
I
mixed
and
quaffed
countless
fizzy
drinks
without
dread
of
any
prohibitionist
.
Finally
,
I
swaggered
into
the
park
,
paraded
all
my
soldiers
on
the
terrace
,
and
,
bidding
them
take
the
time
from
me
,
gave
the
order
to
fire
off
all
the
guns
.
Grown
-
up
people
really
ought
to
be
more
careful
.
Among
themselves
it
may
seem
but
a
small
thing
to
give
their
word
and
take
back
their
word
.
For
them
there
are
so
many
compensations
.
Life
lies
at
their
feet
,
a
party
-
coloured
india
-
rubber
ball
;
they
may
kick
it
this
way
or
kick
it
that
,
it
turns
up
blue
,
yellow
,
or
green
,
but
always
coloured
and
glistening
.
Thus
one
sees
it
happen
almost
every
day
,
and
,
with
a
jest
and
a
laugh
,
the
thing
is
over
,
and
the
disappointed
one
turns
to
fresh
pleasure
,
lying
ready
to
his
hand
.
But
with
those
who
are
below
them
,
whose
little
globe
is
swayed
by
them
,
who
rush
to
build
star
-
pointing
alhambras
on
their
most
casual
word
,
they
really
ought
to
be
more
careful
.
In
this
case
of
the
circus
,
for
instance
,
it
was
not
as
if
we
had
led
up
to
the
subject
.
It
was
they
who
began
it
entirely
—
prompted
thereto
by
the
local
newspaper
.
“
What
,
a
circus
!
”
said
they
,
in
their
irritating
,
casual
way
:
“
that
would
be
nice
to
take
the
children
to
.
Wednesday
would
be
a
good
day
.
Suppose
we
go
on
Wednesday
.
Oh
,
and
pleats
are
being
worn
again
,
with
rows
of
deep
braid
,
”
etc
.
What
the
others
thought
I
know
not
;
what
they
said
,
if
they
said
anything
,
I
did
not
comprehend
.
For
me
the
house
was
bursting
,
walls
seemed
to
cramp
and
to
stifle
,
the
roof
was
jumping
and
lifting
.
Escape
was
the
imperative
thing
—
to
escape
into
the
open
air
,
to
shake
off
bricks
and
mortar
,
and
to
wander
in
the
unfrequented
places
of
the
earth
,
the
more
properly
to
take
in
the
passion
and
the
promise
of
the
giddy
situation
.
Nature
seemed
prim
and
staid
that
day
and
the
globe
gave
no
hint
that
it
was
flying
round
a
circus
ring
of
its
own
.
Could
they
really
be
true
,
I
wondered
,
all
those
bewildering
things
I
had
heard
tell
of
circuses
?
Did
long
-
tailed
ponies
really
walk
on
their
hind
-
legs
and
fire
off
pistols
?
Was
it
humanly
possible
for
clowns
to
perform
one
-
half
of
the
bewitching
drolleries
recorded
in
history
?
And
how
,
oh
,
how
dare
I
venture
to
believe
that
,
from
off
the
backs
of
creamy
Arab
steeds
,
ladies
of
more
than
earthly
beauty
discharged
themselves
through
paper
hoops
?
No
,
it
was
not
altogether
possible
,
there
must
have
been
some
exaggeration
.
Still
,
I
would
be
content
with
very
little
,
I
would
take
a
low
percentage
—
a
very
small
proportion
of
the
circus
myth
would
more
than
satisfy
me
.
But
again
,
even
supposing
that
history
were
,
once
in
a
way
,
no
liar
,
could
it
be
that
I
myself
was
really
fated
to
look
upon
this
thing
in
the
flesh
and
to
live
through
it
,
to
survive
the
rapture
?
No
,
it
was
altogether
too
much
.
Something
was
bound
to
happen
,
one
of
us
would
develop
measles
,
the
world
would
blow
up
with
a
loud
explosion
.
I
must
not
dare
,
I
must
not
presume
,
to
entertain
the
smallest
hope
.
I
must
endeavour
sternly
to
think
of
something
else
.
Needless
to
say
,
I
thought
,
I
dreamed
of
nothing
else
,
day
or
night
.
Waking
,
I
walked
arm
-
in
-
arm
with
a
clown
,
and
cracked
a
portentous
whip
to
the
brave
music
of
a
band
.
Sleeping
,
I
pursued
—
perched
astride
of
a
coal
-
black
horse
—
a
princess
all
gauze
and
spangles
,
who
always
managed
to
keep
just
one
unattainable
length
ahead
.
In
the
early
morning
Harold
and
I
,
once
fully
awake
,
cross
-
examined
each
other
as
to
the
possibilities
of
this
or
that
circus
tradition
,
and
exhausted
the
lore
long
ere
the
first
housemaid
was
stirring
.
In
this
state
of
exaltation
we
slipped
onward
to
what
promised
to
be
a
day
of
all
white
days
—
which
brings
me
right
back
to
my
text
,
that
grown
-
up
people
really
ought
to
be
more
careful
.
I
had
known
it
could
never
really
be
;
I
had
said
so
to
myself
a
dozen
times
.
The
vision
was
too
sweetly
ethereal
for
embodiment
.
Yet
the
pang
of
the
disillusionment
was
none
the
less
keen
and
sickening
,
and
the
pain
was
as
that
of
a
corporeal
wound
.
It
seemed
strange
and
foreboding
,
when
we
entered
the
breakfast
-
room
,
not
to
find
everybody
cracking
whips
,
jumping
over
chairs
,
and
whooping
.
In
ecstatic
rehearsal
of
the
wild
reality
to
come
.
The
situation
became
grim
and
pallid
indeed
,
when
I
caught
the
expressions
“
garden
-
party
”
and
“
my
mauve
tulle
,
”
and
realized
that
they
both
referred
to
that
very
afternoon
.
And
every
minute
,
as
I
sat
silent
and
listened
,
my
heart
sank
lower
and
lower
,
descending
relentlessly
like
a
clock
-
weight
into
my
boot
soles
.
