5. The String Quartet
rust you . Moreover, ing urf are the shadows of our souls.”
“t. ts dreaming into mid stream.
“But to return. urned trod on tticoat. could I do but cry ‘Aop to finger it? At o deating in t in skull–cap and furred slippers, snatc, you kno—to listen! the horns!”
tleman replies so fast to tty exc noing in a sob of passion, t tinguiser, flig, celestial bliss—all floated out on t ripple of tender endearment—until t first far distant, gradually sounds more and more distinctly, as if senescing t pool, lemons, lovers, and fisrumpets and supported by clarions te arced on marble pillars. . . tramp and trumpeting. Clang and clangour. Firm establis. Fast foundations. Marcrod to eart ty to o peris my joy; naked advance. Bare are to none; casting no s; severe. Back to go, find treet, mark t to tarry night.
“Good nig. You go this way?”
“Alas. I go t.”