sombre
bedroom with a very large bed； clean； but sombre。 The ceiling
was painted with a bunch of flowers in a big medallion over the
bed。 She thought it was pretty。
He came to her； and cleaved to her very close； like steel
cleaving and clinching on to her。 Her passion was roused； it was
fierce but cold。 But it was fierce； and extreme； and good； their
passion this night。 He slept with her fast in his arms。 All
night long he held her fast against him。 She was passive；
acquiscent。 But her sleep was not very deep nor very real。
She woke in the morning to a sound of water dashed on a
courtyard； to sunlight streaming through a lattice。 She thought
she was in a foreign country。 And Skrebensky was there an
incubus upon her。
She lay still； thinking； whilst his arm was round her； his
head against her shoulders； his body against hers； just behind
her。 He was still asleep。
She watched the sunshine ing in bars through the
persiennes； and her immediate surroundings again melted
away。
She was in some other land； some other world； where the old
restraints had dissolved and vanished； where one moved freely；
not afraid of one's fellow men； nor wary； nor on the defensive；
but calm； indifferent； at one's ease。 Vaguely； in a sort of
silver light； she wandered at large and at ease。 The bonds of
the world were broken。 This world of England had vanished away。
She heard a voice in the yard below calling：
〃O Giovann'……O'…O'…O'…Giovann'！〃
And she knew she was in a new country； in a new life。 It was
very delicious to lie thus still； with one's soul wandering
freely and simply in the silver l