 Chapter twenty-four of the voyage out by Virginia Woolf. The sleeper-vox recording is in the public domain. They reached the hotel rather early in the afternoon, so that most of the people were still lying down, or sitting speechless in their bedrooms. And Mrs. Thornbury, although she had asked them to tea, was nowhere to be seen. They sat down, therefore, in the shady hall, which was almost empty, and full of the light-swishing sounds of air going to and fro in a large, empty space. Yes, this armchair was the same armchair in which Rachel had sat that afternoon when Evelyn came up. And this was the magazine she had been looking at, and this the very picture, a picture of New York by Lamplight. How odd it seemed! Nothing had changed. By degrees a certain number of people began to come down the stairs and to pass through the hall. And in this dim light their figures possessed a sort of grace and beauty, although they were all unknown people. Sometimes they went straight through and out into the garden by the swing door. Sometimes they stopped for a few minutes and bent over the tables and began turning over the newspapers. Terence and Rachel sat watching them through their half-closed eyelids. The Johnsons, the Parkers, the Baileys, the Simmons, the Lees, the Morleys, the Campbells, the Gardeners. Some were dressed in white flannels and were carrying rackets under their arms. Some were short, some tall, some were only children, and some perhaps were servants, but they all had their standing, their reason for following each other through the hall, their money, their position, whatever it might be. Terence soon gave up looking at them, for he was tired, and closing his eyes he fell half asleep in his chair. Rachel watched the people for some time longer. She was fascinated by the certainty and the grace of their movements, and by the inevitable way in which they seemed to follow each other and loiter and pass on and disappear. But after a time her thoughts wandered and she began to think of the dance which had been held in this room. Only then the room itself looked quite different. Glancing round she could hardly believe that it was the same room. It looked so bare and so bright and formal on that night when they came into it out of the darkness. It had been filled too with little red excited faces, always moving and people so brightly dressed and so animated that they did not seem in the least like real people, nor did you feel that you could talk to them. And now the room was dim and quiet, and beautiful silent people passed through it, to whom you could go and say anything you liked. She felt herself amazingly secure as she sat in her armchair, and able to review not only the night of the dance, but the entire past, tenderly and humorously, as if she had been turning in a fog for a long time and could now see exactly where she had turned. For the methods by which she had reached her present position seemed to her very strange, and the strangest thing about them was that she had not known where they were leading her. That was the strange thing, that one did not know where one was going, or what one wanted, and followed blindly, suffering so much in secret, always unprepared and amazed and knowing nothing. But one thing led to another, and by degrees something had formed itself out of nothing, and so one reached at last this calm, this quiet, this certainty, and it was this process that people called living. Perhaps then, everyone really knew as she knew now where they were going, and things formed themselves into a pattern not only for her, but for them, and in that pattern lay satisfaction and meaning. When she looked back she could see that a meaning of some kind was apparent in the lives of her aunts, and in the brief visit of the Dalloways, whom she would never see again, and in the life of her father. The sound of Terrence breathing deep in his slumber confirmed her in her calm. She was not sleepy, although she did not see anything very distinctly. But although the figures passing through the hall became vaguer and vaguer, she believed that they all knew exactly where they were going, and the sense of their certainty filled her with comfort. For the moment she was as detached and disinterested as if she had no longer any lot in life, and she thought that she could now accept anything that came to her without being perplexed by the form in which it appeared. What was there to frighten or to perplex in the prospect of life? Why should this insight ever again desert her? The world was in truth so large, so hospitable, and after all it was so simple. Love, Syngin had said. That seems to explain it all. Yes, but it was not the love of man for woman, of Terrence for Rachel. Although they sat so close together, they had ceased to be little separate bodies. They had ceased to struggle and desire one another. There seemed to be peace between them. It might be love, but it was not the love of man for woman. Through her half-closed eyelids she watched Terrence lying back in his chair, and she smiled as she saw how big his mouth was, and his chin so small, and his nose curved like a switchback with a knob at the end. Naturally, looking like that, he was lazy and ambitious, and full of moods and faults. She remembered their quarrels, and in particular how they had been quarreling about Helen that very afternoon, and she thought how often they would quarrel in the thirty or forty or fifty years in which they would be living in the same house together, catching trains together, and getting annoyed because they were so different. But all this was superficial, and had nothing to do with the life that went on beneath the eyes and the mouth and the chin. For that life was independent of her, and independent of everything else. So too, although she was going to marry him and to live with him for thirty or forty or fifty years, and to quarrel and to be so close to him, she was independent of him. She was independent of everything else. Nevertheless, as Syngin said, it was love that made her understand this. For she had never felt this independence, this calm, and this certainty until she fell in love with him, and perhaps this too was love. She wanted nothing else. For perhaps two minutes Miss Allen had been standing at a little distance, looking at the couple lying back so peacefully in their armchairs. She could not make up her mind whether to disturb them or not, and then, seeming to recollect something, she came across the hall. The sound of her approach woke Terence, who sat up and rubbed his eyes. He heard Miss Allen talking to Rachel. Well, she was saying, this is very nice. It is very nice indeed. Getting engaged seems to be quite the fashion. It cannot often happen that two couples who have never seen each other before meet in the same hotel and decide to get married. Then she paused and smiled, and seemed to have nothing more to say, so that Terence rose and asked her whether it was true that she had finished her book. Someone had said that she had really finished it. Her face lit up. She turned to him with a livelier expression than usual. Yes, I think I can fairly say I have finished it, she said. That is omitting swinburn. Beowulf to Browning. I rather like the two bees myself. Beowulf to Browning, she repeated. I think that is the kind of title which might catch one's eye on a railway bookstore. She was indeed very proud that she had finished her book, for no one knew what an amount of determination had gone to the making of it. Although she thought that it was a good piece of work, and considering what anxiety she had been in about her brother while she wrote it, she could not resist telling them a little more about it. I must confess, she continued, that if I had known how many classics there are in English literature, and, however, both the best of them contrived to be, I should never have undertaken the work. They only allow one seventy thousand words, you see. Only seventy thousand words, Terence exclaimed. Yes, and one has to say something about everybody, Miss Allen added. That is what I find so difficult, saying something different about everybody. Then she thought that she had said enough about herself, and she asked whether they had come down to join the tennis tournament. The young people are very keen about it. It begins again in half an hour. Her gays rested benevolently upon them both, and after a momentary pause she remarked, looking at Rachel as if she had remembered something that would serve to keep her distinct from other people. You're the remarkable person who doesn't like ginger. But the kindness of the smile in her rather worn and courageous face made them feel that although she would scarcely remember them as individuals, she had laid upon them the burden of the new generation. And in that I quite agree with her, said a voice behind. Mrs. Thornbury had overheard the last few words about not liking ginger. It's associated in my mind with a horrid old aunt of ours. Poor thing she suffered dreadfully, so it isn't fair to call her horrid. Who used to give it to us when we were small, and we never had the courage to tell her we didn't like it. We just had to put it out in the shrubbery. She had a big house near Bath. They began moving slowly across the hall when they were stopped by the impact of Evelyn who dashed into them as though in running downstairs to catch them her legs had got beyond her control. Well, she exclaimed, with her usual enthusiasm, seizing Rachel by the arm. I call this splendid. I guessed it was going to happen from the very beginning. I saw you two were made for each other. Now you've just got to tell me all about it. When's it to be? Where are you going to live? Are you both tremendously happy? But the attention of the group was diverted to Mrs. Elliot, who was passing them with her eager but uncertain movement, carrying in her hands a plate and an empty hot water bottle. She would have passed them, but Mrs. Thornberry went up and stopped her. Thank you. Hewlings better, she replied in answer to Mrs. Thornberry's inquiry. But he's not an easy patient. He wants to know what his temperature is, and if I tell him he gets anxious, and if I don't tell him he suspects. You know what men are when they're ill. And of course there are none of the proper appliances. And though he seems very willing and anxious to help, here she lowered her voice mysteriously. One can't feel that Dr. Rodriguez is the same as a proper doctor. If you would come and see him, Mr. Hewitt, she added, I know it would cheer him up, lying there in bed all day, and beflies. But I must go and find Angelo, the food here, of course, with an invalid. One wants things particularly nice. And she hurried past them in search of the head waiter. The worry of nursing her husband had fixed a plaintive frown upon her forehead. She was pale and looked unhappy and more than usually inefficient, and her eyes wandered more vaguely than ever from point to point. Poor thing, Mrs. Thornberry exclaimed. She told them that for some days fueling Elliot had been ill, and the only doctor available was the brother of the proprietor. Or so the proprietor said, whose right to the title of doctor was not above suspicion. I know how wretched it is to be ill in a hotel, Mrs. Thornberry remarked, once more leading the way with Rachel to the garden. I spent six weeks on my honeymoon in having typhoid at Venice, she continued. But even so I looked back upon them as some of the happiest weeks in my life. Ah, yes, she said, taking Rachel's arm. You think yourself happy now, but it's nothing to the happiness that comes afterwards. And I assure you that I could find it in my heart to envy you young people. You've a much better time than we had, I may tell you. When I look back upon it I can hardly believe how things have changed. When we were engaged I wasn't allowed to go for walks with William alone. Someone had always to be in the room with us. I really believe I had to show my parents all his letters, though they were very fond of him, too. Indeed, I may say they looked upon him as their own son. It amuses me, she continued, to think how strict they were to us when I see how they spoil their grandchildren. The table was laid under the tree again, and taking her place before the teacups Mrs. Thornberry beckoned and nodded, until she had collected quite a number of people, Susan and Arthur and Mr. Pepper, who were strolling about, waiting for the tournament to begin. A murmuring tree, a river brimming in the moonlight, Terence's words came back to Rachel as she sat drinking the tea and listening to the words which flowed on so lightly, so kindly, and with such silvery smoothness. This long life and all these children had left her very smooth. They seemed to have rubbed away the marks of individuality, and to have left only what was old and maternal. And the things you young people are going to see, Mrs. Thornberry continued. She included them all in her forecast. She included them all in her maternity. Although the party comprised William Pepper and Miss Allen, both of whom might have been supposed to have seen a fair share of the panorama, when I see how the world has changed in my lifetime, she went on. I can set no limit to what may happen in the next fifty years. Ah, no, Mr. Pepper, I don't agree with you in the least, she laughed, interrupting his gloomy remark about things going steadily from bad to worse. I know I ought to feel that, but I don't, I'm afraid. There are going to be much better people than we were. Surely everything goes to prove that. All round me I see women, young women, women with household cares of every sort, going out and doing things that we should not have thought it possible to do. Mr. Pepper thought her sentimental and irrational, like all old women, but her manner of treating him as if he were a cross-old baby, baffled him and charmed him, and he could only reply to her with a furious grimace, which was more a smile than a frown. And they remain women, Mrs. Thornberry added. They give a great deal to their children. As she said this she smiled slightly in the direction of Susan and Rachel. They did not like to be included in the same lot, but they both smiled a little self-consciously, and Arthur and Terence glanced at each other too. She made them feel that they were all in the same boat together, and they looked at the women they were going to marry and compared them. It was inexplicable how anyone could wish to marry Rachel. Incredible that anyone should be ready to spend his life with Susan. But singular though the others' taste must be, they bore each other no ill will on account of it. Indeed they liked each other rather the better for the eccentricity of their choice. I really must congratulate you, Susan remarked, as she lent across the table for the jam. There seemed to be no foundation for Syngin's gossip about Arthur and Susan. Sunburnt and vigorous they sat side by side, with their rackets across their knees, not saying much, but smiling slightly all the time. Through the thin white clothes which they wore it was possible to see the lines of their bodies and legs, the beautiful curves of their muscles. His leanness and her flesh. And it was natural to think of the firm fleshed, sturdy children that would be theirs. Their faces had too little shape in them to be beautiful, but they had clear eyes and an appearance of great health and power of endurance. For it seemed as if the blood would never cease to run in his veins or to lie deeply and calmly in her cheeks. Their eyes at the present moment were brighter than usual and wore the peculiar expression of pleasure and self-confidence which is seen in the eyes of athletes. For they had been playing tennis and they were both first-rate at the game. Evelyn had not spoken, but she had been looking from Susan to Rachel. Well, they had both made up their minds very easily. They had done in a very few weeks what it sometimes seemed to her that she would never be able to do. Although they were so different, she thought that she could see in each the same look of satisfaction and completion the same calmness of manner and the same slowness of movement. It was that slowness, that confidence, that content which she hated. She thought to herself, they moved so slowly because they were not single but double and Susan was attached to Arthur and Rachel to Terence and for the sake of this one man they had renounced all other men and movement and the real things of life. Love was all very well and those snug domestic houses with their kitchen below and the nursery above which were so secluded and self-contained like little islands in the torrents of the world. But the real things were surely the things that happened. The causes, the wars, the ideals which happened in the great world outside and went so independently of these women turning so quietly and beautifully towards the men. She looked at them sharply. Of course they were happy and content but there must be better things than that. Surely one could get nearer to life, one could get more out of life, one could enjoy more and feel more than they would ever do. Rachel in particular looked so young. What could she know of life? She became restless and getting up crossed over to sit beside Rachel. She reminded her that she had promised to join her club. The bother is, she went on, that I may not be able to start work seriously till October. I've just had a letter from a friend of mine whose brother is in business in Moscow. They want me to stay with them and as they're in the thick of all the conspiracies and anarchists I've a good mind to stop on my way home. It sounds too thrilling. She wanted to make Rachel see how thrilling it was. My friend knows a girl of fifteen who's been sent to Siberia for life merely because they caught her addressing a letter to an anarchist. And the letter wasn't from her either. I'd give all I have in the world to help on a revolution against the Russian government and it's bound to come. She looked from Rachel to Terence. They were both a little touched by the sight of her remembering how lately they had been listening to evil words about her. And Terence asked her what her scheme was and she explained that she was going to found a club, a club for doing things, really doing them. She became very animated as she talked on and on or she professed herself certain that if once twenty people no ten would be enough if they were keen set about doing things instead of talking about doing them. They could abolish almost every evil that exists. It was brains that were needed. If only people with brains of course they would want a room, a nice room in Bloomsbury preferably, where they could meet once a week. As she talked Terence could see the traces of fading youth in her face, the lines that were being drawn by talk and excitement round her mouth and eyes. But he did not pity her, looking into those bright rather hard and very courageous eyes. He saw that she did not pity herself or feel any desire to exchange her own life for the more refined and orderly lives of people like himself and Syngin. Although as the years went on the fight would become harder and harder. Perhaps though she would settle down, perhaps after all she would marry Parrot. While his mind was half occupied with what she was saying he thought of her probable destiny, the light clouds of tobacco smoke serving to obscure his face from her eyes. Terence smoked and Arthur smoked and Evelyn smoked so that the air was full of the mist and fragrance of good tobacco. In the intervals when no one spoke they heard far off the low murmur of the sea as the waves quietly broke and spread the beach with a film of water and withdrew to break again. The cool green light fell through the leaves of the tree and there were soft crescents and diamonds of sunshine upon the plates and the tablecloth. Mrs. Thornbury, after watching them all for a time in silence, began to ask Rachel kindly questions. When did they all go back? Oh, they expected her father. She must want to see her father. There would be a great deal to tell him and she looked sympathetically at Terence. He would be so happy, she felt sure. Years ago she continued it might have been ten or twenty years ago. She remembered meeting Mr. Vin Race at a party and being so much struck by his face which was so unlike the ordinary face one sees at a party that she had asked who he was and she was told that it was Mr. Vin Race. And she had always remembered the name an uncommon name and he had a lady with him a very sweet-looking woman but it was one of those dreadful London crushes where you don't talk, you only look at each other and although she had shaken hands with Mr. Vin Race she didn't think they had said anything. She sighed very slightly, remembering the past then she turned to Mr. Pepper who had become very dependent on her so that he always chose a seat near her and attended to what she was saying although he did not often make any remark of his own. You who know everything Mr. Pepper, she said tell us how did those wonderful French ladies manage their salons? Did we ever do anything of the same kind in England? Or do you think that there is some reason why we cannot do it in England? Mr. Pepper was pleased to explain very accurately why there has never been an English salon. There were three reasons and they were very good ones, he said as for himself when he went to a party as one was sometimes obliged to from a wish not to give offence his niece for example had been married the other day he walked into the middle of the room said ha ha as loud as ever he could considered that he had done his duty and walked away again Mrs. Thornberry protested she was going to give a party directly she got back and they were all to be invited and she should set people to watch Mr. Pepper and if she heard that he had been caught saying ha ha she would she would do something very dreadful indeed to him Arthur Vennings suggested that what she must do was to rig up something in the nature of a surprise a portrait for example of a nice old lady in a lace cap concealing a bath of cold water which had a signal could be sprung on Pepper's head or they'd have a chair which shot him 20 feet high directly he sat on it Susan laughed she had done her tea she was feeling very contented partly because she had been playing tennis brilliantly and then everyone was so nice she was beginning to find it so much easier to talk and to hold her own even with quite clever people or somehow clever people did not frighten her anymore even Mr. Hurst whom she had disliked when she first met him really wasn't disagreeable and poor man he always looked so ill perhaps he was in love perhaps he had been in love with Rachel she really shouldn't wonder or perhaps it was Evelyn she was of course very attractive to men leaning forward she went on with the conversation she said that she thought that the reason why parties were so dull was mainly because gentlemen will not dress even in London she stated it struck her very much how people don't think it necessary to dress in the evening and of course if they don't dress in London they won't dress in the country it was really quite a treat at Christmas time when there were the hunt balls and the gentlemen wore nice red coats but Arthur didn't care for dancing so she supposed that they wouldn't go even to the ball in their little country town she didn't think that people who were fond of one sport often care for another although her father was an exception but then he was an exception in every way such a gardener and he knew all about birds and animals and of course he was simply adored by all the old women in the village and at the same time what he really liked best was a book you always knew where to find him if he were wanted he would be in his study with a book very likely it would be an old old book some fusty old thing that no one else would dream of reading she used to tell him that he would have made a first rate old bookworm if only he hadn't had a family of six to support and six children she added, charmingly confident of universal sympathy didn't leave one much time for being a bookworm still talking about her father of whom she was very proud she rose for Arthur upon looking at his watch found that it was time they went back again to the tennis court the others did not move they're very happy, said Mrs. Thornbury looking benignantly after them Rachel agreed they seemed to be so certain of themselves they seemed to know exactly what they wanted do you think they are happy? Evelyn murmured to Terrence in an undertone and she hoped that he would say that he did not think them happy but instead he said that they must go too go home for they were always being late for meals and Mrs. Ambrose, who was very stern in particular didn't like that Evelyn laid hold of Rachel's skirt and protested why should they go? it was still early and she had so many things to say to them no, said Terrence, we must go because we walk so slowly we stop and look at things and we talk what do you talk about, Evelyn inquired upon which he laughed and said that they talked about everything Mrs. Thornbury went with them to the gate trailing very slowly and gracefully across the grass and the gravel and talking all the time about flowers and birds she told them that she had taken up the study of botany since her daughter married and it was wonderful what a number of flowers there were which she had never seen although she had lived in the country all her life and she was now 72 it was a good thing to have some occupation which was quite independent of other people, she said when one got old but the odd thing was that one never felt old she always felt that she was 25 not a day more or a day less but of course one couldn't expect other people to agree to that it must be very wonderful to be 25 and not merely to imagine that you're 25 she said looking from one to the other with her smooth bright glance it must be very wonderful very wonderful indeed she stood talking to them at the gate for a long time she seemed reluctant that they should go end of chapter 24 chapter 25 part one of the voyage out by Virginia Wolf the sleeper-vox recording is in the public domain the afternoon was very hot so hot that the breaking of the waves on the shore sounded like the repeated sigh of some exhausted creature and even on the terrace under an awning the bricks were hot and the air danced perpetually over the short dry grass the red flowers in the stone basins were drooping with the heat and the white blossoms which had been so smooth and thick only a few weeks ago were now dry and their edges were curled and yellow only the stiff and hostile plants of the south whose fleshy leaves seemed to be groaned upon spines still remained standing upright and defied the sun to beat them down it was too hot to talk and it was not easy to find any book that would withstand the power of the sun many books had been tried and then let fall and now Terrence was reading Milton aloud because he said the words of Milton had substance and shape so that it was not necessary to understand what he was saying one could merely listen to his words one could almost handle them there is a gentle nymph not far from hence he read that with moist curb sways the smooth severed stream Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure while home she was the daughter of Locreen that had the scepter from his father brute the words in spite of what Terrence had said seemed to be laden with meaning and perhaps it was for this reason that it was painful to listen to them they sounded strange they meant different things from what they usually meant Rachel at any rate could not keep her attention fixed upon them but went off upon curious trains of thought suggested by words such as curb and Locreen and brute which brought unpleasant sights before her eyes independently of their meaning owing to the heat and the dancing air the garden too looked strange the trees were either too near or too far and her head almost certainly ached she was not quite certain and therefore she did not know whether to tell Terrence now or to let him go on reading she decided that she would wait until he came to the end of a stanza and if by that time she had turned her head this way and that and it ached in every position undoubtedly she would say very calmly that her head ached Sabrina fair listen where thou art sitting under the glassy cool translucent wave in twisted braids of lilies knitting the loose train of thy amber dropping hair listen for dear honors' sake goddess of the silver lake listen and save but her head ached it ached whichever way she turned it she sat up and said as she had to determined my head ached so that I shall go indoors he was half way through the next verse but he dropped the book instantly your head ached, he repeated for a few moments they sat looking at one another in silence holding each other's hands during this time his sense of dismay and catastrophe were almost too far away dismay and catastrophe were almost physically painful all round him he seemed to hear the shiver of broken glass which as it fell to earth left him sitting in the open air but at the end of two minutes noticing that she was not sharing his dismay but was only rather more languid and heavy-eyed than usual he recovered fetched Helen and asked her to tell him what they had better do for Rachel had a headache Mrs. Ambrose was not discomposed but advised that she should go to bed and added that she must expect her head to ache if she sat up to all hours and went out in the heat but a few hours in bed would cure it completely Terence was unreasonably reassured by her words as he had been unreasonably depressed the moment before Helen's sense seemed to have much in common with the ruthless good sense of nature which avenged rashness by a headache and like nature's good sense might be depended upon Rachel went to bed she lay in the dark it seemed to her for a very long time but at length waking from a transparent kind of sleep she saw the windows white in front of her and recollected that sometime before she had gone to bed with a headache and that Helen had said it would be gone when she woke she supposed therefore that she was now quite well again at the same time the wall of her room was painfully white and curved slightly instead of being straight and flat turning her eyes to the window she was not reassured by what she saw there the movement of the blind as it filled with air and blew slowly out drawing the cord with a little trailing sound along the floor seemed to her terrifying as if it were the movement of an animal in the room she shut her eyes and the pulse in her head beat so strongly that each bump seemed to tread upon a nerve piercing her forehead with a little stab of pain it might not be the same headache but it seemed to be the same headache it might not be the same headache but she certainly had a headache she turned from side to side in the hope that the coolness of the sheets would cure her and that when she next opened her eyes to look the room would be as usual after a considerable number of vain experiments she resolved to put the matter beyond a doubt she got out of bed and stood upright holding on to the brass ball at the end of the bedstead ice cold at first it soon became as hot as the palm of her hand and as the pains in her head and body and the instability of the floor proved that it would be far more intolerable to stand and walk than to lie in bed she got into bed again but though the change was refreshing at first the discomfort of bed was soon as great as the discomfort of standing up she accepted the idea that she would have to stay in bed all day long and as she laid her head on the pillow relinquished the happiness of the day when Helen came in an hour or two later suddenly stopped her cheerful words looked startled for a second and then unnaturally calm the fact that she was ill was put beyond a doubt it was confirmed when the whole household knew of it when the song that someone was singing in the garden stopped suddenly and when Maria as she brought water slipped past the bed with averted eyes there was all the morning to get through and then all the afternoon and at intervals she made an effort to cross over into the ordinary world but she found that her heat and discomfort had put a gulf between her world and the ordinary world which she could not bridge at one point the door opened and Helen came in with a little dark man who had it was the chief thing she noticed about him very hairy hands she was drowsy and intolerably hot and as he seemed shy and obsequious she scarcely troubled to answer him although she understood that he was a doctor at another point the door opened and Terence came in very gently smiling too steadily as she realized for it to be natural he sat down and talked to her stroking her hands until it became irksome to her to lie any more in the same position and she turned round and when she looked up again Helen was beside her and Terence had gone it did not matter she would see him tomorrow when things would be ordinary again her chief occupation during the day was to try to remember how the lines went under the glassy cool translucent wave in twisted braids of lilies knitting the loose train of like amber dropping hair and the effort worried her because the adjectives persisted in getting into the wrong places the second day did not differ very much from the first day except that her bed had become very important and the world outside when she tried to think of it appeared distinctly further off the glassy cool translucent wave was almost visible before her curling up at the end of the bed and as it was refreshingly cool she tried to keep her mind fixed upon it Helen was here and Helen was there all day long sometimes she said that it was lunchtime and sometimes that it was tea time but by the next day all landmarks were obliterated and the outer world was so far away that the different sounds such as the sounds of people moving overhead could only be ascribed to their cause by a great effort of memory the recollection of what she had felt or of what she had been doing and thinking three days before had faded entirely on the other hand every object in the room her bed itself and her own body with its various limbs and their different sensations were more and more important each day she was completely cut off and unable to communicate with the rest of the world isolated alone with her body hours and hours would pass thus without getting any further through the morning or again a few minutes would lead from broad daylight to the depths of the night one evening when the room appeared very dim either because it was evening or because the blinds were drawn Helen said to her someone is going to sit here tonight you won't mind opening her eyes Rachel saw not only Helen but a nurse in spectacles whose face vaguely recalled something that she had once seen she had seen her in the chapel nurse McInnes said Helen and the nurse smiled steadily as they all did and said that she did not find many people who were frightened of her after waiting for a moment they both disappeared having turned on her pillow Rachel woke to find herself in the midst of one of those interminable nights which do not end at twelve but go on into the double figures thirteen fourteen and so on until they reached the twenties and then the thirties and then the forties she realized that there is nothing to prevent nights from doing this at a great distance an elderly woman sat with her head bent down Rachel raised herself slightly and saw with dismay that she was playing cards by the light of a candle which stood in the hollow of a newspaper the sight had something inexplicably sinister about it and she was terrified and cried out upon which the woman laid down her cards and came across the room shading the candle with her hands coming nearer and nearer across the great space of the room she stood at last above Rachel's head and said not asleep let me make you comfortable she put down the candle and began to arrange the bed clothes it struck Rachel that a woman who sat playing cards in a cavern all night long had very cold hands and she shrunk from the touch of them why there's a toe all the way down there the woman said proceeding to tuck in the bed clothes Rachel did not realize that the toe was hers you must try to lie still she proceeded because if you lie still you will be less hot and if you toss about you will make yourself more hot and we don't want you to be any hotter than you are she stood looking down upon Rachel for an enormous length of time and the quieter you lie the sooner you will be well she repeated Rachel kept her eyes fixed upon the peaked shadow on the ceiling and all her energy was concentrated upon the desire that this shadow should move but the shadow and the woman seemed to be eternally fixed above her she shut her eyes when she opened them again several more hours had passed but the night still lasted interminably the woman was still playing cards only she sat now in a tunnel under a river and the light stood in a little archway in the wall above her she cried Terrence and the peaked shadow again moved across the ceiling as the woman with an enormous slow movement rose and they both stood still above her it's just as difficult to keep you in bed as it was to keep Mr. Forest in bed the woman said and he was such a tall gentleman in order to get rid of this terrible stationery sight Rachel again shut her eyes and found herself walking through a tunnel under the Thames where there were little deformed women sitting in archways playing cards while the bricks of which the wall was made oozed with damp which collected into drops and slid down the wall but the little old women became Helen and Nurse McGinnis after a time standing in the window together whispering whispering incessantly meanwhile outside her room the sounds, the movements and the lives of the other people in the house went on in the ordinary light of the sun throughout the usual succession of hours when on the first day of her illness it became clear that she would not be absolutely well for her temperature was very high until Friday that day being Tuesday Terrence was filled with resentment not against her but against the force outside them which was separating them he counted up the number of days that would almost certainly be spoiled for them he realized with an odd mixture of pleasure and annoyance that for the first time in his life he was so dependent upon another person that his happiness was in her keeping the days were completely wasted upon trifling immaterial things for after three weeks of such intimacy and intensity all the usual occupations were unbearably flat and beside the point the least intolerable occupation was to talk to singin about Rachel's illness and to discuss every symptom and its meaning and when this subject was exhausted to discuss illness of all kinds and what caused them and what cured them twice every day he went in to sit with Rachel and twice every day the same thing happened on going into her room which was not very dark where the music was lying about as usual and her books and letters his spirits rose instantly when he saw her he felt completely reassured she did not look very ill sitting by her side he would tell her what he had been doing using his natural voice to speak to her only a few tones lower down than usual but by the time he had sat there for five minutes he was plunged into the deepest gloom she was not the same he could not bring them back to their old relationship but although he knew that it was foolish he could not prevent himself from endeavouring to bring her back to make her remember and when this failed he was in despair he always concluded as he left her room that it was worse to see her than not to see her but by degrees as the day wore on the desire to see her returned and became almost too great to be born on Thursday morning when Terence went into her room he felt the usual increase of confidence she turned round and made an effort to remember certain facts from the world that was so many millions of miles away you have come up from the hotel she asked no, I'm staying here for the present, he said we've just had luncheon, he continued and the mail has come in there's a bundle of letters for you letters from England instead of saying as he meant her to say that she wished to see them she said nothing for some time you see, there they go rolling off the edge of the hill she said suddenly rolling, Rachel what do you see rolling there's nothing rolling the old woman with the knife she replied not speaking to Terence in particular and looking past him as she appeared to be looking at a vase on the shelf opposite he rose and took it down now they can't roll any more she said suddenly nevertheless she lay gazing at the same spot and paid him no further attention although he spoke to her he became so profoundly wretched that he could not endure to sit with her but wandered about until he found singin who was reading the Times in the veranda he laid it aside patiently and heard all that Terence had to say he was very patient with Terence he treated him like a child by friday it could not be denied that the illness was no longer an attack that would pass off in a day or two it was a real illness that required a good deal of organization and engrossed the attention of at least five people but there was no reason to be anxious instead of lasting five days or going to last ten days Rodriguez was understood to say that there were well known varieties of this illness Rodriguez appeared to think that they were treating the illness with undue anxiety his visits were always marked by the same show of confidence and in his interviews with Terence he always waved aside his anxious and minute questions with a kind of flourish that would indicate that they were all taking it much too seriously he seemed curiously unwilling to sit down a high temperature he said looking furtively about the room and appearing to be more interested in the furniture and in Helen's embroidery than in anything else in this climate you must expect a high temperature you need not be alarmed by that it is the pulse we go by he tapped his own hairy wrist and the pulse continues excellent there upon he bowed and slipped out the interview was conducted laboriously upon both sides in French and this together with the fact that he was optimistic and that Terence respected the medical profession from hearsay made him less critical than he would have been had he encountered the doctor in any other capacity unconsciously he took Rodriguez's side against Helen who seemed to have taken an unreasonable prejudice against him when Saturday came it was evident that the hours of the day must be more strictly organized than they had been Syngin offered his services he said that he had nothing to do and that he might as well spend the day at the villa if he could be abused as if they were starting on a difficult expedition together they parceled out their duties between them writing out an elaborate scheme of hours upon a large sheet of paper which was pinned to the drawing room door their distance from the town and the difficulty of procuring rare things with unknown names from the most unexpected places made it necessary to think very carefully and they found it unexpectedly difficult to do the simple but practical things that were required of them as if they, being very tall were asked to stoop down and arrange minute grains of sand in a pattern on the ground it was Syngin's duty to fetch what was needed from the town so that Terence would sit all through the long hot hours alone in the drawing room near the open door listening for any movement upstairs or call from Helen he always forgot to pull down the blinds so that he sat in bright sunshine which worried him without his knowing what was the cause of it the room was terribly stiff and uncomfortable there were hats in the chairs and medicine bottles among the books he tried to read but good books were too good and bad books were too bad and the only thing he could tolerate was the newspaper which with its news of London and the movements of real people who were giving dinner parties and making speeches seemed to give a little background of reality to what was otherwise mere nightmare then just as his attention was fixed on the print a soft call would come from Helen or Mrs. Chaley would bring in something which was wanted upstairs she would run up very quietly in his socks and put the jug on the little table which stood crowded with jugs and cups outside the bedroom door or if he could catch Helen for a moment he would ask how is she rather restless on the whole quieter I think the answer would be one or the other as usual she seemed to reserve something to not say and Terence was conscious that they disagreed and without saying it aloud were arguing against each other but she was too hurried and preoccupied to talk the strain of listening and the effort of making practical arrangements and seeing that things worked smoothly absorbed all Terence's power involved in this long dreary nightmare he did not attempt to think what it amounted to Rachel was ill that was all he must see that there was medicine and milk and that things were ready when they were wanted thought had ceased life itself had come to a standstill Sunday was rather worse than Saturday had been simply because the strain was a little greater every day although nothing else had changed the separate feelings of pleasure interest and pain which combined to make up the ordinary day were merged in one long drawn sensation of sordid misery and profound boredom he had never been so bored since he was shut up in the nursery alone as a child the vision of Rachel as she was now confused and heedless had almost obliterated the vision of her as she had been once long ago he could hardly believe that they had ever been happy or engaged to be married for what were feelings what was there to be felt confusion covered every sight and person and he seemed to see singin ridley and the stray people who came up now and then from the hotel to inquire through a mist the only people who were not hidden in this mist were Helen and Rodriguez because they could tell him something definite about Rachel nevertheless the day followed the usual forms at certain hours they went into the dining room and when they sat round the table they talked about indifferent things singin usually made it his business to start the talk and to keep it from dying out I've discovered the way to get sancho past the White House said singin on Sunday at luncheon you crackle a piece of paper in his ear then he bolts for about a hundred yards but he goes on quite well after that yes, but he wants corn you should see that he has corn I don't think much of the stuff they give him and Angelo seems a dirty little rascal there was then a long silence ridley murmured a few lines of poetry under his breath and remarked as if to conceal the fact that he had done so very hot today two degrees higher than it was yesterday said singin I wonder where these nuts come from he observed taking a little bit of corn he said where these nuts come from he observed taking a nut out of the plate turning it over in his fingers and looking at it curiously London I should think said Terence looking at the nut too a competent man of business could make a fortune here in no time singin continued I suppose the heat does something funny to people's brains even the English go a little queer anyhow they're hopeless people to deal with they kept me three quarters of an hour waiting at the chemists this morning for no reason whatever there was another long pause then Ridley inquired Rodriguez seems satisfied quite said Terence with decision it's just got to run its course where upon Ridley heaved a deep sigh he was genuinely sorry for everyone but at the same time he missed Helen considerably and was a little aggrieved by the constant presence of the two young men they moved back into the drawing room look here Hearst said Terence there's nothing to be done for two hours he consulted the sheet pin to the door you go and lie down I'll wait here Chaley sits with Rachel while Helen has her luncheon it was asking a good deal of Hearst to tell him to go without waiting for a sight of Helen these little glimpses of Helen were the only respites from strain and boredom and very often they seemed to make up for the discomfort of the day although she might not have anything to tell them however as they were on an expedition together he had made up his mind to obey Helen was very late in coming down she looked like a person who has been sitting for a long time in the dark she was pale and thinner and the expression of her eyes was harassed but determined she ate her luncheon quickly and seemed indifferent to what she was doing she brushed aside Terence's inquiries and at last as if he had not spoken she looked at him with a slight frown and said we can't go on like this Terence either you've got to find another doctor or you must tell Rodriguez to stop coming and I'll manage for myself it's no use for him to say that Rachel's better she's not better she's worse Terence suffered a terrific shock like that which he had suffered when Rachel said my headaches he stilled it by reflecting that Helen was overwrought and he was upheld in this opinion by his obstinate sense that she was opposed to him in the argument do you think she's in danger? he asked no one can go on being as ill as that day after day Helen replied she looked at him and spoke as if she felt some indignation with somebody very well I'll talk to Rodriguez this afternoon he replied Helen went upstairs at once nothing could now assuage Terence's anxiety he could not read nor could he sit still and his sense of security was shaken in spite of the fact that he was determined that Helen was exaggerating and that Rachel was not very ill but he wanted a third person to confirm him in his belief directly Rodriguez came down he demanded well how is she? do you think her worse? there is no reason for anxiety I tell you none Rodriguez replied in his exoperable French smiling uneasily and making little movements all the time as if to get away Hewitt stood firmly between him and the door he was determined to see for himself what kind of man he was his confidence in the man vanished as he looked at him and saw his insignificance his dirty appearance his shiftiness and his unintelligent hairy face it was strange that he had never seen this before you won't object of course if we ask you to consult another doctor he continued at this the little man became openly incensed ah he cried you have not confidence in me you object to my treatment you wish me to give up the case not at all Terence replied but in serious illness of this kind Rodriguez shrugged his shoulders it is not serious I assure you you are over anxious the young lady is not seriously ill and I am a doctor the lady of course is frightened he sneered I understand that perfectly the name and address of the doctor is Terence continued there is no other doctor Rodriguez replied sullenly everyone has confidence in me look I will show you he took out a packet of old letters and began turning them over as if in search of one that would confute Terence's suspicions as he searched he began to tell a story about an English Lord who had trusted him a great English Lord whose name he had unfortunately forgotten there is no other doctor in the place he concluded still turning over the letters never mind said Terence shortly I will make inquiries for myself Rodriguez put the letters back in his pocket very well he remarked I have no objection he lifted his eyebrows shrugged his shoulders as if to repeat that they took the illness much too seriously and that there was no other doctor and slipped out leaving behind him an impression that he was conscious that he was distrusted and that his malice was aroused after this Terence could no longer stay downstairs he went up knocked at Rachel's door and asked Helen whether he might see her for a few minutes he had not seen her yesterday she made no objection and went and sat at a table in the window Terence sat down by the bedside Rachel's face was changed she looked as though she were entirely concentrated upon the effort of keeping alive her lips were drawn and her cheeks were sunken and flushed though without color her eyes were not entirely shut the lower half of the white part showing not as if she saw but as if they remained open because she was too much exhausted to close them she opened them completely when he kissed her but she only saw an old woman slicing a man's head off with a knife there it falls, she murmured she then turned to Terence and asked him anxiously some question about a man with mules which he could not understand why doesn't he come? why doesn't he come? she repeated he was appalled to think of the dirty little man downstairs in connection with illness like this and turned instinctively to Helen but she was doing something at a table in the window and did not seem to realize how great the shock to him must be he rose to go for he could not endure to listen any longer his heart beat quickly and painfully with anger and misery as he passed Helen she asked him in the same weary unnatural but determined voice to fetch her more ice and to have the jug outside filled with fresh milk when he had done these errands he went to find Hearst exhausted and very hot Syngin had fallen asleep on a bed but Terence woke him without scruple Helen thinks she's worse he said there's no doubt she's frightfully ill Rodriguez is useless we must get another doctor but there is no other doctor said Hearst drowsily sitting up and rubbing his eyes don't be a damned fool Terence exclaimed of course there's another doctor and if there isn't you've got to find one it ought to have been done days ago I'm going down to saddle the horse he could not stay still in one place in less than ten minutes Syngin was riding to the town in the scorching heat in search of a doctor his orders being to find one and bring him back if he had to be fetched in a special train we ought to have done it days ago he would repeated angrily when he went back into the drawing room he found that Mrs. Flushing was there standing very erect in the middle of the room having arrived as people did in these days by the kitchen or through the garden unannounced she's better Mrs. Flushing inquired abruptly they did not attempt to shake hands no said Terence if anything they think she's worse Mrs. Flushing seemed to consider for a moment or two looking straight at Terence all the time let me tell you she said speaking in nervous jerks it's always about the seventh day one begins to get anxious I daresay you've been sitting here worrying by yourself you think she's bad but anyone coming with a fresh eye would see she was better Mr. Elliott's had fever he's all right now she threw out it wasn't anything she caught on the expedition what's it matter a few days fever my brother had fever for twenty six days once and in a week or two he was up and about we gave him nothing but milk and arrow root here Mrs. Chaley came in with a message I'm wanted upstairs said Terence you'll see she'll be better Mrs. Flushing jerked out as he left the room her anxiety to persuade Terence was very great and when he left her without saying anything she felt dissatisfied and restless she did not like to stay but she could not bear to go she wandered from room to room looking for someone to talk to but all the rooms were empty End of Chapter 25 Part 1