Will father be there?" she asked.
John turned to her in astonishment.
Your father is dead," he replied somberly. "Why should he go to Hades? You have it confused with another place that was abolished long ago."
After supper they folded up the table-cloth and spread their blankets for the night.
What a dream it was," Kismine sighed, gazing up at the stars. "How strange it seems to be here with one dress and a penniless fianc_!
Under the stars," she repeated. "I never noticed the stars before. I always thought of them as great big diamonds that belonged to some one. Now they frighten me. They make me feel that it was all a dream, all my youth."
It was a dream," said John quietly. "Everybody's youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness."
How pleasant then to be insane!"
So I'm told," said John gloomily. "I don't know any longer. At any rate, let us love for a while, for a year or so, you and me. That's a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try. There are only diamonds in the whole world, diamonds and perhaps the shabby gift of disillusion. Well, I have that last and I will make the usual nothing of it." He shivered. "Turn up your coat collar, little girl, the night's full of chill and you'll get pneumonia. His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours."
So wrapping himself in his blanket he fell off to sleep.
Tea at the Ritz is the last delicious morsel of Edwardian London. The light is kind, the cakes are frivolous and the tempo is calm, confident and leisurely.
Helen SimpsonPagina 1 di 1.
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