Section 1
So far I have said nothing of Nettie. I have departed widely frommy individual story. I have tried to give you the effect of thechange in relation to the general framework of human life, itseffect of swift, magnificent dawn, of an overpowering letting inand inundation of light, and the spirit of living. In my memory allmy life before the Change has the quality of a dark passage, withthe dimmest side gleams of beauty that come and go. The rest is dullpain and darkness. Then suddenly the walls, the bitter confines,are smitten and vanish, and I walk, blinded, perplexed, and yetrejoicing, in this sweet, beautiful world, in its fair incessantvariety, its satisfaction, its opportunities, exultant in this gloriousgift of life. Had I the power of music I would make a world-widemotif swell and amplify, gather to itself this theme and that, andrise at last to sheer ecstasy of triumph and rejoicing. It shouldbe all sound, all pride, all the hope of outsetting in the morningbrightness, all the glee of unexpected happenings, all the gladnessof painful effort suddenly come to its reward; it should be likeblossoms new opened and the happy play of children, like tearful,happy mothers holding their first-born, like cities building tothe sound of music, and great ships, all hung with flags and winebespattered, gliding down through cheering multitudes to their firstmeeting with the sea. Through it all should march Hope, confidentHope, radiant and invincible, until at last it would be the triumphmarch of Hope the conqueror, coming with trumpetings and bannersthrough the wide-flung gates of the world.
And then out of that luminous haze of gladness comes Nettie,transfigured.
So she came again to me--amazing, a thing incredibly forgotten.
She comes back, and Verrall is in her company. She comes backinto my memories now, just as she came back then, rather quaintlyat first--at first not seen very clearly, a little distorted byintervening things, seen with a doubt, as I saw her through theslightly discolored panes of crinkled glass in the window of theMenton post-office and grocer's shop. It was on the second dayafter the Change, and I had been sending telegrams for Melmount,who was making arrangements for his departure for Downing Street.I saw the two of them at first as small, flawed figures. The glassmade them seem curved, and it enhanced and altered their gesturesand paces. I felt it became me to say "Peace" to them, and I wentout, to the jangling of the door-bell. At the sight of me theystopped short, and Verrall cried with the note of one who hassought, "Here he is!" And Nettie cried, "Willie!"
I went toward them, and all the perspectives of my reconstructeduniverse altered as I did so.
I seemed to see these two for the first time; how fine they were,how graceful and human. It was as though I had never really lookedat them before, and, indeed, always before I had beheld them througha mist of selfish passion. They had shared the universal darknessand dwarfing of the former time; they shared the universal exaltationof the new. Now suddenly Nettie, and the love of Nettie, a greatpassion for Nettie, lived again in me. This change which had enlargedmen's hearts had made no end to love. Indeed, it had enormouslyenlarged and glorified love. She stepped into the center of thatdream of world reconstruction that filled my mind and took possessionof it all. A little wisp of hair had blown across her cheek, herlips fell apart in that sweet smile of hers; her eyes were fullof wonder, of a welcoming scrutiny, of an infinitely courageousfriendliness.
I took her outstretched hand, and wonder overwhelmed me. "I wantedto kill you," I said simply, trying to grasp that idea. It seemednow like stabbing the stars, or murdering the sunlight.
"Afterward we looked for you," said Verrall; "and we could not findyou. . . . We heard another shot."
I turned my eyes to him, and Nettie's hand fell from me. It wasthen I thought of how they had fallen together, and what it musthave been to have awakened in that dawn with Nettie by one's side.I had a vision of them as I had glimpsed them last amidst thethickening vapors, close together, hand in hand. The green hawks ofthe Change spread their darkling wings above their last stumblingpaces. So they fell. And awoke--lovers together in a morningof Paradise. Who can tell how bright the sunshine was to them,how fair the flowers, how sweet the singing of the birds? . . .
This was the thought of my heart. But my lips were saying, "WhenI awoke I threw my pistol away." Sheer blankness kept my thoughtssilent for a little while; I said empty things. "I am very gladI did not kill you--that you are here, so fair and well. . . ."
"I am going away back to Clayton on the day after to-morrow," Isaid, breaking away to explanations. "I have been writing shorthandhere for Melmount, but that is almost over now. . . ."
Neither of them said a word, and though all facts had suddenly ceasedto matter anything, I went on informatively, "He is to be taken toDowning Street where there is a proper staff, so that there willbe no need of me. . . . Of course, you're a little perplexed atmy being with Melmount. You see I met him--by accident--directlyI recovered. I found him with a broken ankle--in that lane. . . .I am to go now to the Four Towns to help prepare a report. So thatI am glad to see you both again"--I found a catch in my voice--"tosay good-bye to you, and wish you well."
This was after the quality of what had come into my mind when firstI saw them through the grocer's window, but it was not what I feltand thought as I said it. I went on saying it because otherwisethere would have been a gap. It had come to me that it was goingto be hard to part from Nettie. My words sounded with an effect ofunreality. I stopped, and we stood for a moment in silence lookingat one another.
It was I, I think, who was discovering most. I was realizing forthe first time how little the Change had altered in my essentialnature. I had forgotten this business of love for a time ina world of wonder. That was all. Nothing was lost from my nature,nothing had gone, only the power of thought and restraint had beenwonderfully increased and new interests had been forced upon me.The Green Vapors had passed, our minds were swept and garnished, butwe were ourselves still, though living in a new and finer air. Myaffinities were unchanged; Nettie's personal charm for me was onlyquickened by the enhancement of my perceptions. In her presence,meeting her eyes, instantly my desire, no longer frantic but sane,was awake again.
It was just like going to Checkshill in the old time, afterwriting about socialism. . . .
I relinquished her hand. It was absurd to part in these terms.
So we all felt it. We hung awkwardly over our sense of that. Itwas Verrall, I think, who shaped the thought for me, and said thatto-morrow then we must meet and say good-bye, and so turned ourencounter into a transitory making of arrangements. We settled wewould come to the inn at Menton, all three of us, and takeour midday meal together. . . .
Yes, it was clear that was all we had to say now. . . .
We parted a little awkwardly. I went on down the village street,not looking back, surprised at myself, and infinitely perplexed.It was as if I had discovered something overlooked that disarrangedall my plans, something entirely disconcerting. For the first timeI went back preoccupied and without eagerness to Melmount's work.I wanted to go on thinking about Nettie; my mind had suddenly becomevoluminously productive concerning her and Verrall.