But at my back I always hear----'" He wiped his forehead,
which was unpleasantly damp.
which was unpleasantly damp.
Kipling - Poems
He paced up and
down the room, quietly at first, but afterwards with the hurried feet of
fear. It was as though a black shadow stood at his elbow and urged him
to go forward; and there were only weaving circles and floating pin-dots
before his eyes.
"We need to be calm, Binkie; we must be calm. " He talked aloud for the
sake of distraction. "This isn't nice at all. What shall we do? We must
do something. Our time is short. I shouldn't have believed that this
morning; but now things are different. Binkie, where was Moses when the
light went out? "
Binkie smiled from ear to ear, as a well-bred terrier should, but made
no suggestion.
"'Were there but world enough and time, This coyness, Binkie, were not
crime. . . .
But at my back I always hear----'" He wiped his forehead,
which was unpleasantly damp. "What can I do? What can I do? I haven't
any notions left, and I can't think connectedly, but I must do
something, or I shall go off my head. "
The hurried walk recommenced, Dick stopping every now and again to drag
forth long-neglected canvases and old note-books; for he turned to his
work by instinct, as a thing that could not fail. "You won't do, and you
won't do," he said, at each inspection. "No more soldiers. I couldn't
paint 'em. Sudden death comes home too nearly, and this is battle and
murder for me. "
The day was failing, and Dick thought for a moment that the twilight
of the blind had come upon him unaware. "Allah Almighty! " he cried
despairingly, "help me through the time of waiting, and I won't whine
when my punishment comes. What can I do now, before the light goes? "
There was no answer. Dick waited till he could regain some sort of
control over himself. His hands were shaking, and he prided himself on
their steadiness; he could feel that his lips were quivering, and the
sweat was running down his face.
down the room, quietly at first, but afterwards with the hurried feet of
fear. It was as though a black shadow stood at his elbow and urged him
to go forward; and there were only weaving circles and floating pin-dots
before his eyes.
"We need to be calm, Binkie; we must be calm. " He talked aloud for the
sake of distraction. "This isn't nice at all. What shall we do? We must
do something. Our time is short. I shouldn't have believed that this
morning; but now things are different. Binkie, where was Moses when the
light went out? "
Binkie smiled from ear to ear, as a well-bred terrier should, but made
no suggestion.
"'Were there but world enough and time, This coyness, Binkie, were not
crime. . . .
But at my back I always hear----'" He wiped his forehead,
which was unpleasantly damp. "What can I do? What can I do? I haven't
any notions left, and I can't think connectedly, but I must do
something, or I shall go off my head. "
The hurried walk recommenced, Dick stopping every now and again to drag
forth long-neglected canvases and old note-books; for he turned to his
work by instinct, as a thing that could not fail. "You won't do, and you
won't do," he said, at each inspection. "No more soldiers. I couldn't
paint 'em. Sudden death comes home too nearly, and this is battle and
murder for me. "
The day was failing, and Dick thought for a moment that the twilight
of the blind had come upon him unaware. "Allah Almighty! " he cried
despairingly, "help me through the time of waiting, and I won't whine
when my punishment comes. What can I do now, before the light goes? "
There was no answer. Dick waited till he could regain some sort of
control over himself. His hands were shaking, and he prided himself on
their steadiness; he could feel that his lips were quivering, and the
sweat was running down his face.
