|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: fields, the sky, the sailing bird, the water, all said, "Isabel." The same
thing happened every Saturday afternoon. When he was on his way to meet
Isabel there began those countless imaginary meetings. She was at the
station, standing just a little apart from everybody else; she was sitting
in the open taxi outside; she was at the garden gate; walking across the
parched grass; at the door, or just inside the hall.
And her clear, light voice said, "It's William," or "Hillo, William!" or
"So William has come!" He touched her cool hand, her cool cheek.
The exquisite freshness of Isabel! When he had been a little boy, it was
his delight to run into the garden after a shower of rain and shake the
rose-bush over him. Isabel was that rose-bush, petal-soft, sparkling and
|
