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The sky that has been all of one hue during the live-long day wherever you looked, nothing but pale, pale azure is now like the palette of some God-painter splashed and freaked with all manner of great and noble colors a most regal blaze of gold wide plains of crimson, as if all heaven were flashing at some high thought little feathery cloud-islands of tenderest rose-pink.
Thus freaked and marked, walking in single file, our mothers and elder sisters behind us, shouting, leaping and laughing, we presented something as near a Bacchic procession as could be found in a community enshrouded in the black cloak of John Calvin. What a good time it was to be alive, and never is a boy so young as in the berry pasture, nor any place so full of enchantments.
Outside, the March wind is roughly hustling the dry, brown trees and pinching the diffident green shoots, while the round and rayless sun of late afternoon is staring, from behind the elm-twigs in at the long maps on the wall, in at the high chairs tall of back, cruelly tiny of seat, off whose rungs we have kicked all the paint in at the green baize table, richly freaked with splashes.
He knew it all the time and never told me. I told him that you and I had a one time thing last summer, and he freaked out. "'I'm not paying for his kid, bla, bla, bla. "I practically begged: 'Couldn't it be like we adopted him or her? "'It's his problem, he said. He called my baby a problem. How could he love me if my baby is a problem?" "Good question," Oliver said. "Jesus, Jennifer."
The joy of her love for it was written on its lustrous beds, as poets write. She had the poetic passion for flowers. Perhaps her taste may now seem questionable. She cherished the old-fashioned delight in tulips; the house was reached on a gravel-path between rows of tulips, rich with one natural blush, or freaked by art.
"She freaked out when I explained, but the worst is over," Jennifer said. "I'm going to drive down next Saturday, stay the night, get things back on track." Oliver wondered what "on track" meant. "O.K.," he said. "One down. My mother will be excited, actually." "It is exciting," Jennifer said. "Go on, get it over with."
The joy of her love for it was written on its lustrous beds, as poets write. She had the poetic passion for flowers. Perhaps her taste may now seem questionable. She cherished the old-fashioned delight in tulips; the house was reached on a gravel-path between rows of tulips, rich with one natural blush, or freaked by art.
Clouds had gathered; the airy blue and whiteness of the morning had become a level sheet of grey, which wiped the colour out of everything; the wind, no longer tempered by the sun, was chilly, as it whirled down the narrow streets and freaked about the corners. There was little temptation now to linger on one's steps.
That they meant for him his own omniscient appreciation, unshakenly sure of the ethical category into which he could place each fruit, however ominous its tainted ripeness; each flower, however freaked with perverse tints, left her mildly skeptical; so that he felt, with just a flicker of his old irritation, that the very plentifulness of esthetic corruption that he could display to her testified for her to his essential guilelessness, and, perhaps, to a blandness and narrowness of nature that lacked even the capacity for infection.
For were they not privy to the doom that the morrow, or the morrow's morrow, held for him held not indeed for him alone, yet for him especially, as it were, and for him most lamentably? The breakfast-things were not yet cleared away. A plate freaked with fine strains of marmalade, an empty toast-rack, a broken roll these and other things bore witness to a day inaugurated in the right spirit.
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