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This was so manifestly true that it silenced me altogether. "And if you belong to her and she to you, Ponderevo which end's the head?" I made no answer except an impatient "oh!" For a time we smoked in silence.... "Did I tell you, Ponderevo, of a wonderful discovery I've made?" Ewart began presently. "No," I said, "what is it?" "There's no Mrs. Grundy." "No?" "No! Practically not.
We're in for knowledge; let's have it plain and straight. I should begin, I think, by abolishing the ideas of decency and indecency...." "Grundy would have fits!" I injected. "Grundy, Ponderevo, would have cold douches publicly if the sight was not too painful three times a day.... But I don't think, mind you, that I should let the sexes run about together. No. The fact behind the sexes is sex.
That's sus substratum. None of us want to be what we are, or to do what we do. Except as a sort of basis. What do we want? You know. I know. Nobody confesses. What we all want to be is something perpetually young and beautiful young Joves young Joves, Ponderevo" his voice became loud, harsh and declamatory "pursuing coy half-willing nymphs through everlasting forests."...
His neck seemed longer and more stringy than it had been even in our schooldays, and his upper lip had a wiry black moustache. The rest of his ruddy, knobby countenance, his erratic hair and his general hairy leanness had not even to my perceptions grown. "By Jove!" he said, "you've got quite decent-looking, Ponderevo! What do you think of me?" "You're all right. What are you doing here?"
Ewart himself was not in the first instance visible, but only a fourfold canvas screen at the end of the room from which shouts proceeded of "Come on!" then his wiry black hair, very much rumpled, and a staring red-brown eye and his stump of a nose came round the edge of this at a height of about three feet from the ground "It's old Ponderevo!" he said, "the Early bird! And he's caught the worm!
"Another barrow-load, thank God! Another fifteen hundred, or it may be two thousand pounds, for the saving of Ponderevo!..." I found out many things about myself and humanity in those weeks of effort behind Mordet Island. I understand now the heart of the sweater, of the harsh employer, of the nigger-driver.
Ponderevo, it is all right. It is all right. "Only Believe! 'Believe on me, and ye shall be saved'!" Close at hand was the doctor with one of those cruel and idiotic injection needles modern science puts in the hands of these half-educated young men, keeping my uncle flickeringly alive for no reason whatever. The religieuse hovered sleepily in the background with an overdue and neglected dose.
What a chap you are, Ponderevo!" and he made an abrupt end to his discourse. He wouldn't even reply to my tentatives for a time. "While I was talking just now," he remarked presently, "I had a quite different idea." "What?" "For a masterpiece. A series. Like the busts of the Caesars. Only not heads, you know. We don't see the people who do things to us nowadays..." "How will you do it, then?"
The homes of the women, Ponderevo, will be set in the wall of their city; each woman will have her own particular house and home, furnished after her own heart in her own manner with a little balcony on the outside wall. Built into the wall and a little balcony.
This room had a window, too, looking out into the hotel courtyard with its fern-set fountains and mosaic pavement, and the young men would stand against this and sometimes even mutter. One day I heard one repeating in all urgent whisper as I passed "But you don't quite see, Mr. Ponderevo, the full advantages, the FULL advantages " I met his eye and he was embarrassed.
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