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Ch 14 - A Passage to India · A Passage to India

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  Chapter fourteen. Most of life is so dull that there is nothing to be
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  said about it, and the books and talk that would describe it as interesting
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  are obliged to exaggerate in the hope of justifying their own existence inside its cocoon
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  of work or social obligation. The human spirit slumbers for the most part,
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  registering the distinction between pleasure and pain, but not nearly as alert as we
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  pretend. There are periods in the most thrilling day during which nothing happens,
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  and though we continue to exclaim I do enjoy myself or I am horrified,
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  we are insincere. As far as I feel anything, it is enjoyment.
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  Harbor, It's no more than that, really, and a perfectly adjusted organism
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  would be silent. It so happened that missus Moore and Misquested had felt nothing
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  acutely for a fortnight. Ever since Professor Godbolt had sung his Queer Little Song,
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  they had lived more or less inside cocoons, and the difference between them
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  was that the elder lady accepted her own apathy, while the younger resented hers.
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  It was Adela's faith that the whole stream of events is important and interesting,
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  and if she grew bored. She blamed herself severely and compelled her lips
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  to utter enthusiasms. This was the only insincerity in a character otherwise sincere,
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  and it was indeed the intellectual protest of her youth. She was particularly vexed
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  now because she was both in India and engaged to be married, which double
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  event should have made every instant sublime. India was certainly dim this morning,
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  though seen under the auspices of Indians. Her wish had been granted, but
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  too late. She could not get excited over Aziz and his arrangements. She
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  was not the least unhappy or depressed. And the various odd objects that surrounded
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  her, the comic pourda carriage, the piles of rugs and bolsters, the
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  rolling melons, the scent of sweet oils the latter, the brass bound box,
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  the sudden irruption of mahmoud Ali's butler from the lavatory with tea and poach
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  eggs upon a tray. They were all new and amusing and led her to
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  comment appropriately. But they wouldn't bite into her mind, so she tried to
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  find comfort by reflecting that her main interest would henceforth be Ronnie. What a
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  nice, cheerful servant. What a relief after Antony. They startled one rather
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  a strange place to make tea in, said missus Moore, who had hoped
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  for a nap. I want to sack Anthony his behavior on the platform,
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  as decided me. Missus Moore thought that Antony's better self would come to the
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  front at Simla. Miss quested, was to be married at Simla. Some
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  cousins with a house looking straight on to Tibet had invited her. Anyhow,
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  we must get a second servant because at Simla you will be at the hotel.
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  And I don't think Ronnie's baldeo. She loved plans very well. You
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  get another servant and I'll keep Antony with me. I am used to his
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  unappetising ways. He will see me through the hot weather. I don't believe
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  in hot weather. People like Major Calendar who always talk about it. It's
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  in the hope of making one feel inexperienced and small like their everlasting I've been
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  twenty years in this country. I believe in hot weather, but never did
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  I suppose it would bottle me up as it will. For owing to the
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  sage leisureliness of Ronnie and Adela, they could not be married till May,
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  and consequently missus Moore could not return to England immediately after the wedding, which
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  was what she had hoped to do. By May, a barrier of fire
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  would have fallen across India and the adjoining Sea, and she would have to
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  remain perched up in the Himalias waiting for the world to get cooler. I
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  won't be bottled up, announced the girl. I've no patience with these women
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  here who leave their husbands grilling in the plains. Missus McBride hasn't stopped down
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  once since she married. She leaves her quiet, intelligent husband alone half the
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  year, and then she's surprised she's out of touch with him. She has
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  children, you see. Oh, yes, that's true, said miss quested
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  inserted. It is the children who are the first consideration until they are grown
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  up and married off. When that happens, one has again the right to
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  live for oneself in the plains or the hills as suits. Oh yes,
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  you're perfectly right. I never thought of it, if one has not become
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  too stupid and old. She handed her empty cup to the servant. My
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  idea now is that my cousins shall find me a servant in Simla at all
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  events to see me through the wedding, after which Ranie means to reorganize his
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  staff entirely. He does it very well for a bachelor. Still, when
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  he is married, no doubt, various changes will have to be made.
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  His old servants won't want to take their orders from me, and I don't
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  blame them. Missus Moore pushed up the shutters and looked out. She had
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  brought Ronnie and Adelat together by their mutual wish, but really she could not
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  advise them further. She felt increasingly vision or nightmare, that though people are
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  important, the relations between them are not, and that in particular, too
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  much fuss has been made over marriage, centuries of carnal embracement. Yet man
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  is no nearer to understanding man. And to day she felt this with such
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  force that it seemed itself a relationship itself, a person who was trying to
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  take hold of her hand. Anything to be seen of the hills only various
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  shades of dark. We can't be far from the place where my hyena was.
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  She peered into the timeless twilight. The train crossed a Nullah pumpper pumper
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  pumper was the sound that the wheels made as they chundled over the bridge,
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  moving very slowly. A hundred yards on came a second nullah, then a
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  third, suggesting the neighborhood of higher ground. Perhaps this is mine anyhow,
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  the road runs parallel with the railway. Her accident was a pleasant memory.
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  She felt, in her dry, honest way that it had given her a
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  good shake up aunt taught her Ronnie's true worth. Then she went back to
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  her plans. Plans had been a passion with her from girlhood now and then
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  she paid tribute to the present, said how friendly and intelligent Aziz was.
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  Ate a guava, couldn't eat a fried suite, practiced her urdu on the
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  servant. But her thoughts ever veered to the manageable future and to the Anglo
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  Indian life she had decided to endure, and as she appraised it with its
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  adjuncts of turtins and burdens, the train accompanied her sentences, Pumper pumper.
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  The train half asleep, going nowhere in particular, and with no passenger of
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  importance in any of its carriages. The branch Line train lost on a low
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  embankment between dull fields its message, for it had one avoided Her well equipped
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  mind far away behind her, with a shriek that meant business, rushed the
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  mail, connecting up important towns such as Calcutta and Lahore, where interesting events
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  occur and personalities are developed. She understood that unfortunately, India has few important
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  towns. India is the country fields, fields, then hills, jungle,
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  hills, and more fields. The branch line stops, the road is only
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  practicable for cars to a point. The bullock carts lumber down the side tracks,
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  paths fray out into the cultivation, and disappear near a splash of red
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  paint. How can the mind take hold of such a country? Generations of
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  invaders have tried, They remain in exile. The important towns they build are
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  only retreats, their quarrels, the malaise of men who cannot find their way
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  home. India knows of their trouble. She knows of the whole world's trouble,
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  to its uttermost depths. She calls come through her hundred mouths, through
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  objects ridiculous and august, But come to what she has never defined. She
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  is not a promise, only an appeal. I will fetch you from Simla,
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  when it's cool enough, I will unbottle you. In fact, continued
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  the reliable girl, we then see some of the mogul stuff, how appalling.
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  If we let you miss the tars, and then I will see you
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  off at Bombay, your last glimpse of this country really shall be interesting.
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  But missus Moore had fallen asleep, exhausted by the early start. She was
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  in rather low health and ought not to have attempted the expedition, but had
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  pulled herself together in case the pleasure of the others should suffer. Her dreams
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  were of the same texture. But there it was her other children who were
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  wanting something Stella and Ralph, and she was explaining to them that she could
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  not be in two families at once. When she awoke, Adela had ceased
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  to plan and lean out of a window, saying, they are rather wonderful,
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  astonishing even from the rise of the civil station. Here the Mara bar
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  were gods to whom Earth is a ghost. Kawa Doll was nearest. It
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  shot up in a single slab, on whose summit one rock was poised.
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  If a mass so great can be called one rock behind it recumbent or the
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  hills that contained the other caves, isolated each from his neighbor by broad channels
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  of the plain. The assemblage ten in all shifted a little as the train
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  crept past them, as if observing its arrival. I'd not have missed this
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  for anything, said the girl, exaggerating her enthusiasm. Look the sun's rising.
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  This will be absolutely magnificent. Come quickly, Look, I wouldn't have
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  missed this for anything. We should never have seen it if we'd to the
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  Turtons and their eternal elephants. As she spoke, the sky to the left
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  turned angry orange color, throbbed and mounted behind a pattern of trees grew in
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  intensity, was yet brighter, incredibly brighter. Strained from without against the globe
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  of the air, they awaited the miracle. But at the supreme moment,
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  when night should have died and day lived, nothing occurred. It was as
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  if virtue had failed in celestial fount The hues in the east decayed, the
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  hills seemed dimmer, though in fact better lit, and a profound disappointment entered
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  with the morning breeze. Why when the chamber was prepared did the bride room
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  not enter with trumpets and shams as humanity expects the sun rose without splendor.
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  He was presently observed trailing yellowish behind the trees or against insipid sky, and
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  touching the bodies already at work in the fields. Ah, that must be
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  the false dawn. Isn't it caused by dust in the upper layers of the
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  atmosphere that couldn't fall down during the night. I think, mister McBride said
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  so well. I must admit that England has it as regards sunrises. Do
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  you remember Grassmere? Ah, dearest Grassmere, Its little lakes and mountains were
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  beloved by them, all romantic yet manageable. It sprang from a kindlier planet.
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  Here, an untidy plain stretched to the knees of the Marabar. Good
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  morning, good morning. Put on your topis shouted Aziz from farther down the
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  train. Put on your topis at once. The early sun is highly dangerous
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  for heads. I speak as a doctor, good morning, good morning,
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  put on your own. Not for my thick head, he laughed, banging
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  it and holding up pads of his hair. Nice creature, he is murmured.
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  Annela listen, Mohammed Latif says, good morning. Next various pointless jests.
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  Doctor Aziz, what's happened to your hills? The train has forgotten to
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  stop. Perhaps it's a circular train and goes back to Chandrapur without a break.
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  Who knows. Having wandered off into the plain for a mile, the
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  train slowed up against an elephant. There was a platform too, but it
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  shriveled into insignificance. An elephant waving or painted forehead at the bourne. Oh,
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  what a surprise, called the ladies. Politely. Aziz said nothing,
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  but he nearly burst with pride and relief. The elephant was the one grand
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  feature of the picnic, and God alone knew what he had gone through to
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  obtain her. Semi official. She was best approached through the Nawab Bahadur,
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  who was best approached through Nura Din, but he never answered letters. But
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  his mother had great influence with him and was a friend of Hamidula Begum's,
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  who had been excessively kind and had promised to call on her provided the broken
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  shutter of the poor Da carriage came back soon enough from Calcutta. That an
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  elephant should depend from so long and so slender a string filled Azis with content
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  and with humorous appreciation of the East, where the friends of friends are a
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  reality where everything gets done sometime, and sooner or later everyone gets his share
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  of happiness. And Muhammad Latif was likewise content because two of the guests had
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  missed the train and consequently he could ride on the Howda instead of following in
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  a cart. And the servants were content because an elephant increased their self esteem,
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  and they tumbled out the luggage into the dust with shouts and bangs,
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  issuing orders to one another, and convulsed with goodwill. It takes an hour
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  to get there, an hour to get back, and two hours for the
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  caves, which will call three, said Azziz, smiling charmingly. There was
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  suddenly something legal about him. The train back is at eleven thirty, and
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  you will be sitting down to your tiffin in jandrap or with mister Heslop at
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  exactly your usual hour, namely one fifteen. I know everything about you.
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  Four hours quite a small expedition, and an hour extra for misfortunes, which
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  occur somewhat frequently among my people. My idea is to plan everything without consulting
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  you. But you missus moore or misquested, You are at any moment to
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  make alterations. If you wish, even if it means giving up the caves,
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  do you agree, then mount this wild animal. The elephant had knelt
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  gray and isolated like another hill. They climbed up the ladder and he mounted
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  sheikar fashion, treading first on the sharp edge of the heel and then into
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  the looped up tail. When Mohammed Latif followed him, the servant who held
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  the end of the tail let go of it according to previous instructions, so
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  that the poor relative slipped and had to cling to the netting over the buttocks.
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  It was a little piece of court buffoonery, and dressed only the ladies
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  whom it was intended to divert. Both of them disliked practical jokes. Then
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  the beast rose in two shattering movements and poised them ten feet above the plane.
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  Immediately below was the scurf of life that an elephant always collects round its
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  feet. Villagers, naked babies. The servants flung crockery into tongas Hasan annexed
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  the station intended for Aziz and defied mahmoud Ali's man from its altitude. The
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  Brahman, who had been hired to cook for Professor Godbule was planted under an
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  acacia tree to await their return. The train, also hoping to return,
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  wobbled away through the fields, turning its head this way and that like a
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  centipede, And the only other movement to be seen was a movement as of
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  antennae, really the counterpoises of the wells, which rose and fell on their
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  pivots of mud all over the plain and dispersed a feeble flow of water.
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  The scene was agreeable rather than not in the mild morning air, but there
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  was little color in it and no vitality. As the elephant moved towards the
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  hills, the pale sun had by this time saluted them to the base and
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  penciled shadows down their creases, a new quality occurred, a spiritual silence which
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  invaded more senses than the ear. Life went on as usual, but had
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  no consequences, that is to say, sounds did not echo or thoughts develop.
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  Everything seemed cut off at its root and therefore infected with illusion. For
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  instance, there were some mounds by the edge of the track, low serrated
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  and touched with whitewash. What were these mounds? Graves? Breasts of the
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  Goddess Parvati. The villagers beneath gave both replies. Again, there was a
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  confusion about a snake, which was never cleared up. Misquested saw a thin,
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  dark object reared on end at the farther side of a water course,
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  and said a snake. The villagers agreed, and Azziz explained, yes,
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  a black cobra, very venomous, and said a snake who had reared himself
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  up to watch the passing of the elephant. But when she looked through Ronnie's
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  field glasses she found it wasn't a snake, but the withered and twisted stump
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  of a toddy palm. So she said it isn't a snake. The villagers
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  contradicted her. She had put the word into their minds, and they refused
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  to abandon it. Azziz admitted that it looked like a tree through the glasses,
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  but insisted that it was a black cobra really, and improvised some rubbish
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  about protective mimicry. Nothing was explained, and yet there was no romance.
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  Films of heat radiated from the cowa doll. Precipices increased the confusion. They
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  came at regular intervals and moved capriciously. A patch of field would jump as
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  if it was being fried, and then lie quiet. As they drew closer
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  the radiation stopped. The elephant walked straight at the Cawa dole as if she
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  would knock for admission with her forehead, then swerved and followed a path round
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  its base. The stones plunged straight into the earth like cliffs into the sea,
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  and while misquested, was remarking on this and saying that it was striking.
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  The plane quietly disappeared, peeled off, so to speak, and nothing
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  was to be seen on either side but the granite, dead and quiet.
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  The sky dominated as usual, but seemed unhealthily near, adhering like a ceiling
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  to the summits of the precipices. It was as if the contents of the
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  corridor had never been changed. Occupied by his own munificence, Aziz noticed nothing.
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  His guests noticed a little. They did not feel that it was an
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  attractive place or quite worth visiting, and wished it could have turned into some
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  Mohammedan object such as a mosque, which their host would have appreciated and explained.
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  His ignorance became evident, and was really rather a drawback in spite of
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  his gay, confident talk, he had no notion how to treat this particular
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  aspect of India. He was lost in it without Professor Goudboulet. Like themselves,
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  the corridor narrowed then widened into a sort of tray. Here, more
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  or less was their goal. A ruined tank held a little water which would
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  do for the animals, and close above the mud was punched a black hole
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  the first of the caves. Three hills encircled the tray. Two of them
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  pumped out heat busily, but the third was in shadow. And here they
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  camped a horrid, stuffy place. Really, murmured missus Moore to herself,
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  how quick your servants are? Misquested exclaimed, for a cloth had already been
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  laid with a vase of artificial flowers in its center, and mahmoud Ali's butler
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  offered them poached eggs and tea for the second time. I thought we would
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  eat this before our caves and breakfast after. Isn't this breakfast? This breakfast?
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  Did you think I should treat you so strangely? He had been warned
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  that English people never stop eating, and that he had better nourish them every
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  two hours until a solid meal was ready. How very well it is all
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  arranged that you shall tell me when I returned to Chandrap or whatever disgraces I
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  bring upon myself, You remain my guests, he spoke gravely. Now they
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  were dependent on him for a few hours, and he felt grateful to them
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  for placing themselves in such a position. All was well so far. The
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  elephant held a fresh cut bow to her lips, the tonga shafts stuck up
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  into the air. The kitchen boy peeled potatoes. Hassan shouted, and Mohammed
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  Latif stood as he ought with appealed switch in his hand. The expedition was
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  a success, and it was Indian. An obscure young man had been allowed
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  to show courtesy to visitors from another country, which is what all Indians longed
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  to do, even cynics like mahmoud Ali, but they never have the chance.
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  Hospitality had been achieved. They were his guests, His honor was involved
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  in their happiness, and any discomfort they endured would tear his own soul.
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  Like most Orientals, Azi's overrated hospitality, mistaking it for intimacy and not seeing
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  that it is tainted with the sense of possession. It was only when Missus
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  Moore or Fielding was near him that he saw further and knew that it is
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  more blessed to receive than to give. These two had strange and beautiful effects
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  on him. They were his friends, his forever, and he theirs forever.
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  He loved them so much that giving and receiving became one. He loved
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  them even better than the Hamidullahs because he had surmounted obstacles to meet them,
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  and this stimulates a generous mind. Their images remained somewhere in his soul up
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  to his dying day, permanent additions. He looked at her now as she
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  sat on a deck chair, sipping his tea, and had for a moment
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  a joy that held the seeds of its own decay. For it would lead
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  him to think, Oh, what more can I do for her? And
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  so back to the dull round of hospitality. The black bullets of his eyes
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  filled with soft, expressive light, and he said, do you ever remember
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  our mosque, Missus Moore? I do? I do? She said,
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  suddenly vital and young, and how rude I was and rough, and how
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  good you were, and how happy we both were. Friendships last longest that
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  begin like that, I think, shall I ever entertain your other children?
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  Do you know about the others? She will never talk about them to me,
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  said misquested, unintentionally breaking a spell Ralph and stella. Yes, I
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  know everything about them, but we must not forget to visit our caves.
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  One of the dreams of my life is accomplished in having you both here as
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  my guests. You cannot imagine how you have honored me. I feel like
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  the Emperor Babur. Why like him, she enquired, rising, because my
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  ancestors came down with him from Afghanistan. They joined him at Harat. He
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  also had often no more elephants than one none sometimes, but he never ceased
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  showing hospitality. When he fought or hunted or ran away, he would always
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  stop for a time among the hills, just like us. He would never
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  let go of hospitality and pleasure. And if there was only a little food,
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  he would have it arranged nicely, and if only one musical instrument,
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  he would compel it to play a beautiful tune. I take him as my
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  ideal. He is the poor gentleman and became a great king. I thought
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  another emperor is your favorite. I forget the name you mentioned him at mister
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  Fielding's what my book calls ow Wrung zib al ma Geir. Oh. Yes,
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  he was, of course the more pious. But Babur never in his
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  whole life did he betray a friend. So I can only think of him
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  this morning. And you know how he died. He laid down his life
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  for his son, a death far more difficult than battle. They were caught
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  in the heat. They should have gone back to Kabul for the bad weather,
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  but could not for reasons of state. And at Agra Humayun fell sick.
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  Babur walked round the bed three times and said, I have borne it
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  away, and he did bear it away. The fever left his son and
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  came to him instead, and he died. That is why I prefer Babur
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  to Alamkir. I ought not to do so, but I do. However,
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  I mustn't delay you. I see you are ready to start, not
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  at all, she said, sitting down by missus Moore. Again, we
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  enjoy talk like this very much, for at last he was talking about what
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  he knew and felt, talking as he had in Fielding's garden house. He
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  was again the oriental guide whom they appreciated. I always enjoy conversing about the
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  Moguls. It is the chief pleasure I know. You see, those first
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  six emperors were all most wonderful men, And as soon as one of them
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  is mentioned, no matter which, I forget everything else in the world except
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  the other five. You could not find six such kings in all the countries
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  of the earth, not I mean, coming one after the other. Father
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  son, tell us something about Akbar. Ah, you have heard the name
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  of Akbar. Good. Hamidullah, whom you shall meet, will tell you
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  that Akbar is the greatest of all. I say, yes, Akbar is
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  very wonderful. But half a Hindu. He was not a true Moslim,
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  which makes Hamidullah cry. No more was Babur. He drank wine, But
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  Babur always repented afterwards, which makes the entire difference. And Akbar never repented
• 36:25
  of the new religion he invented instead of the Holy Koran. But wasn't Akbar's
• 36:34
  new religion very fine? It was to embrace the whole of India, misquested,
• 36:40
  Fine, but foolish you keep your religion I mine. That is the
• 36:47
  best. Nothing embraces the whole of India. Nothing, nothing, And that
• 36:55
  was Akbar's mistake. Oh do you feel that at doctor Uzzies? She said
• 37:01
  thoughtfully. I hope you're not right. There will have to be something universal
• 37:09
  in this country. I don't say religion, for I'm not religious, but
• 37:15
  something or how else are barriers to be broken down? She was only recommending
• 37:23
  the universal brotherhood he sometimes dreamed of, but as soon as it was put
• 37:30
  into prose it became untrue. Take my own case, she continued. It
• 37:37
  was indeed her own case that had animated her. I don't know whether you
• 37:43
  happen to have heard, but I'm going to marry mister Heaslop, on which
• 37:49
  my heartiest congratulations, Missus Moore. May I put our difficulty to doctor Uzzies,
• 37:57
  I mean our Anglo Indian in one it is your difficulty, not mine,
• 38:04
  My dear Ah, that's true. Well, by barrying mister Heathlaw,
• 38:09
  I shall become what is known as an Anglo Indian. He held up his
• 38:16
  hand in protest. Impossible take back such a terrible remark, But I shall.
• 38:24
  It's inevitable. I can't avoid the label. What I do hope to
• 38:30
  avoid is the mentality women like. She stopped, not quite liking to mention
• 38:38
  names. She would boldly have said, Missus Turton and Missus Calendar a fortnight
• 38:45
  ago. Some women are so well ungenerous and snoppy about Indians, and I
• 38:55
  should feel too ashamed for words if I turned like them. But and here's
• 39:01
  my difficulty. There's nothing special about me, nothing specially good or strong which
• 39:09
  will help me to resist my environment and avoid becoming like them. I've most
• 39:16
  lamentable defects. That's why I want Akbar's Universal Religion or the equivalent to keep
• 39:27
  me decent and sensible. Do you see what I mean? Her remarks pleased
• 39:32
  him, but his mind shut up tight because she had alluded to her marriage.
• 39:39
  He was not going to be mixed up in that side of things.
• 39:45
  You are certain to be happy with any relative of Missus Moore's, he said,
• 39:51
  with a formal bow. Oh my happiness. That's quite another problem.
• 39:59
  I want to con selt you about this Anglo Indian difficulty. Can you give
• 40:04
  me any advice? You are absolutely unlike the others. I assure you you
• 40:12
  will never be rude to my people. I am told we all get rude
• 40:19
  after a year. Then you are told a lie. He flashed, for
• 40:24
  she had spoken the truth and it touched him on the raw. It was
• 40:30
  itself an insult in these particular circumstances. He recovered himself at once and laughed.
• 40:38
  But her error broke up their conversation, their civilization it had almost been,
• 40:46
  which scattered like the petals of a desert flower, and left them in
• 40:52
  the middle of the hills. Come along, he said, holding out a
• 40:58
  hand to each. They got up a little reluctantly and addressed themselves to sight
• 41:05
  seeing. The first cave was tolerably convenient. They skirted the puddle of water,
• 41:13
  and then climbed up over some unattractive stones, the sun crashing on their
• 41:19
  backs, bending their heads, they disappeared one by one into the interior of
• 41:25
  the hills. The small black hole gaped where their varied forms and colors had
• 41:34
  momentarily functioned. They were sucked in like water down a drain bland and bald,
• 41:42
  rose, the precipices bland and glutinous, the sky that connected the precipices
• 41:50
  solid and white. A brahminy kite flapped between the rocks with a clumsiness that
• 41:55
  seemed intentional. Before man, with his itch for the seemly had been born.
• 42:02
  The planet must have looked. Thus the kite flapped away before birds perhaps,
• 42:12
  and then the hole belched and humanity returned. A Marabar cave had been
• 42:20
  horrid as far as missus Moore was concerned, for she had nearly fainted in
• 42:25
  it, and had some difficulty in preventing herself from saying so as soon as
• 42:32
  she got into the air again. It was natural enough she had always suffered
• 42:39
  from faintness, and the cave had become too full because all their retinue followed
• 42:46
  them. Crammed with villagers and servants, the circular chamber began to smell.
• 42:53
  She lost Azziz and Adela in the dark, didn't know who touched her,
• 43:00
  couldn't breathe. Some vile, naked thing struck her face and settled on her
• 43:07
  mouth like a pad. She tried to regain the entrance tunnel, but an
• 43:13
  influx of villagers swept her back. She hit her head. For an instant
• 43:19
  she went mad, hitting and gasping like a fanatic, For not only did
• 43:25
  the crush and stench alarm her, there was also a terrifying echo. Professor
• 43:34
  Goupalat had never mentioned an echo. It never impressed him. Perhaps there are
• 43:40
  some exquisite echoes. In India, there is the whisper round the dome at
• 43:47
  Bijapur. There are the long, solid sentences that voyage through the air at
• 43:53
  Mundu and return unbroken to their creator. The echo in a mara bar cave
• 44:02
  is not like these. It is entirely devoid of distinction. Whatever is said,
• 44:09
  the same monotonous noise replies and quivers up and down the walls until it
• 44:16
  is absorbed into the roof. Boom is the sound, as far as the
• 44:22
  human alphabet can express it. Or boo woom or oo boom, Utterly,
• 44:32
  dull, hope, politeness, the blowing of a nose, the squeak of
• 44:38
  a boot all produce boom. Even the striking of a match starts a little
• 44:45
  worm coiling, which is too small to complete a circle, but is eternally
• 44:52
  watchful. And if several people talk at once, an overlapping howling noise begins.
• 45:01
  Echoes generate echoes, and the cave is stuffed with a snake composed of
• 45:07
  small snakes, which writhe independently. After Missus Moore and all the others poured
• 45:16
  out, she had given the signal for the reflux. Azziz and Adela both
• 45:22
  emerged smiling, and she did not want him to think his treat was a
• 45:29
  failure, so she smiled too. As each person emerged, she looked for
• 45:35
  a villain, but none was there, and she realized that she had been
• 45:40
  among the mildest individuals whose only desire was to honor her, and that the
• 45:47
  naked pad was a poor little baby astride its mother's hip. Nothing evil had
• 45:55
  been in the cave, but she had not joyed herself. No, she
• 46:01
  had not enjoyed herself, and she decided not to visit a second one.
• 46:08
  Did you see the reflection of his match rather pretty? Asked Adela. I
• 46:16
  forget, but he says, this isn't a good cave. The best are
• 46:22
  on the Kawa Dole. I don't think I shall go on to their.
• 46:29
  I dislike climbing very well. Let's sit down again in the shade until breakfast's
• 46:35
  ready. Ah, but that'll disappoint him, so he has taken such terrible
• 46:40
  trouble. You should go on. You don't mind, Perhaps I ought to,
• 46:47
  said the girl, indifferent to what she did, but desirous of being
• 46:52
  amiable The servants et cetera. Worth grambling back to the camp, pursued by
• 47:00
  Grave censures from Mohammed Latif Azziz came to help the guests over the rocks.
• 47:07
  He was at the summit of his powers, vigorous and humble, too sure
• 47:14
  of himself to resent criticism, and he was sincerely pleased when he heard they
• 47:21
  were altering his plans. Certainly misquested. So you and I will go on
• 47:27
  together and leave missus Moore here, and we will not be long yet,
• 47:32
  we will not hurry because we know that will be her wish. Quite right.
• 47:40
  I'm sorry not to come too, but I'm a poor walker. Dear
• 47:45
  missus Moore. What does anything matter so long as you are my guests.
• 47:52
  I am very glad you are not coming, which sounds strange, but you
• 47:58
  are treating me with frankness as a friend. Yes, I am your friend,
• 48:06
  she said, laying her hand on his sleeve and thinking, despite her
• 48:12
  fatigue, how very charming, how very good he was, and how deeply
• 48:17
  she desired his happiness. So may I make another suggestion. Don't let so
• 48:24
  many people come with you this time. I think you may find it more
• 48:30
  convenient. Exactly exactly, he cried, and rushing to the other extreme forbade
• 48:39
  all except one guide to a company misquested, and him to the Cowado Is
• 48:46
  that all right? He enquired, Quite right. Now, enjoy yourselves,
• 48:53
  and when you come back, tell me all about it. And she said
• 49:00
  into a deck chair. If they reached the big pocket of caves, they
• 49:06
  would be away nearly an hour. She took out her writing pad and began
• 49:13
  Dear Stella, Dear Ralph. Then stopped and looked at the queer valley and
• 49:21
  their feeble invasion of it. Even the elephant had become a nobody. Her
• 49:28
  eye rose from it to the entrance tunnel. No, she did not wish
• 49:35
  to repeat that experience. The more she thought over it, the more disagreeable
• 49:40
  and frightening it became. She minded it much more now than at the time.
• 49:47
  The crush and the smells she could forget. But the echo began,
• 49:53
  in some indescribable way to murmur, pathos, piety, courage. They exist,
• 50:04
  but are identical, and so is filth. Everything exists, nothing has
• 50:12
  value. If one had spoken vileness in that place, or quoted lofty poetry,
• 50:21
  the comment would have been the same oooh boom. If one had spoken
• 50:29
  with the tongues of angels and pleaded for all the unhappiness and misunderstanding in the
• 50:36
  world past, present and to come. For all the misery, men must
• 50:42
  undergo, whatever their opinion and position, and however much they dodge or bluff,
• 50:50
  it would amount to the same. The serpent would descend and return to
• 50:55
  the ceiling. Devils are of the north, and poems can be written about
• 51:02
  them, But no one could romanticize the Mara bar because it robbed infinity and
• 51:09
  eternity of their vastness, the only quality that accommodates them to mankind. She
• 51:21
  tried to go on with her letter, reminding herself that she was only an
• 51:25
  elderly woman who had got up too early in the morning and journeyed too far,
• 51:32
  and that the despair creeping over her was merely her despair, her personal
• 51:38
  weakness, and that even if she got sunstroke and went mad, the rest
• 51:45
  of the world would go on. But suddenly, at the edge of her
• 51:52
  mind religion appeared poor little talkative Christianity, and she knew that all its divine
• 52:01
  words, from let their be light to it is finished, only amounted to
• 52:10
  boom. Then she was terrified over an area larger than usual. The universe,
• 52:20
  never comprehensible to her intellect, offered no repose to her soul. The
• 52:27
  mood of the last two months took definite form at last, and she realized
• 52:32
  that she didn't want to write to her children, didn't want to communicate with
• 52:38
  anyone, not even with God. She sat motionless with horror, and when
• 52:47
  old Mohammed Latif came up to her, thought he would notice a difference.
• 52:53
  For a time she thought, I am going to be ill to comfort herself.
• 53:00
  Then she surrendered to the vision. She lost all interest even in Azziz,
• 53:07
  and the affectionate and sincere words that she had spoken to him seemed no
• 53:14
  longer hers, but the heirs end of chapter fourteen.