If only I
were equally balanced and effective. Oh dear!' And he sighed.
And there were many similar conversations of this kind. London seemed
different, almost transfigured sometimes. Was this the beginning of
that glory which should prove it a suburb of Bourcelles?
Rogers found his thoughts were much in that cosy mountain village: the
children capered by his side all day; he smelt the woods and flowers;
he heard the leaves rustle on the poplar's crest; and had merely to
think of a certain room in the tumble-down old Citadelle for a wave of
courage and high anticipation to sweep over him like a sea. A new
feeling of harmony was taking him in hand. It was very delightful; and
though he felt explanation beyond his reach still, his talks with
Minks provided peep-holes through which he peered at the enormous
thing that brushed him day and night.
A great settling was taking place inside him. Thoughts certainly began
to settle. He realised, for one thing, that he had left the theatre
where the marvellous Play had been enacted. He stood outside now, able
to review and form a judgment. His mind loved order. Undue
introspection he disliked, as a form of undesirable familiarity; a
balanced man must not be too familiar with himself; it endangered
self-respect.
He had been floundering rather.
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