Then the c▓reature slides round the cape▓, cutting its line of silk froth in the▓ sea, brightly lit up in the m▓oth-soft darkness of the Aegean night —● condensed, but without outlines, like● a cloud of fireflies moving.It trave●ls fast, and disappears all too soon ro

w▓ait for

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und the ●next headland, leaving behind it perhaps o●nly the half-uttered fragment of a● popular song, or the skin of a tangerin▓e which I will find next day, wash▓ed up on the long pebbled beach wher▓e I bathe with the child.The little arbour of o●leanders under the planes — th●is is my writing-room.After the child has gone▓ to bed, I sit here at the old se●a-stained table,

it.You hear at

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waiting for the visitant, unwil▓ling to light the paraffin lamp before ▓it has passed.It is the only day of the w●eek I know by name here — Thursday.It s●ounds silly, but in an island so ●empty of variety, I look forward to the we▓ekly visit like a child to a school treat.▓I know the boat brings letters● for which I shall have to wait perhaps t●wenty-four hours.But I neve▓r

first only the

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see the little ship vanish without regret●.And when it has passed, I light the lamp w▓ith a sigh and return to my papers.▓I write so slowly, with such pain.Pursew▓arden once, speaking about writ●ing, told me that the pain that● accompanied composition was entirel▓y due, in artists, to the fear of madness▓; ‘force it a bit and tell yourself that you ●don’t give a damn if you

faint ●drummi

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do go m●ad, and you’ll find it comes quic▓ker, you’ll break the barrier.’ (I do●n’t know how true this all is.But the money he▓ left me in his will has serv▓ed me well, and I still have a▓ few pounds between me and the devi●ls of debt and work.) I desc▓ribe this weekly diversion in some detail becaus▓e it was into this picture that Balthazar int▓ruded one June evening wit

ng of engines.

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h a sudden▓ness that surprised me — I was ●going to write ‘deafened’  癃 there is no one to talk to ●here — but ‘surprised me’.This evenin▓g something like a miracle happened.The l●ittle steamer, instead of disappearing as● usual, turned abruptly through▓ an arc of 150 degrees and entered the l▓agoon, there to lie in a furry cocoon of its own▓ light: and to drop into th

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e centre of the golde▓n puddle it had created the long slow ●anchor-chain whose symbol itself i▓s like a search for truth.It was a movin▓g sight to one who, like myself, h▓ad been landlocked in spirit as all writers are▓ — indeed, become like a ship i●n a bottle,

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sailing nowhere — and I watched a▓s an Indian must perhaps have watched the f▓irst white man’s craft touch the shores▓ of the New World.The darkness, the sile●nce, were broken now by the uneven lap-lap▓ of oars; and then, after an ag●e, by the chink of city-shod● fee

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t upon shingle.A hoarse voice gave a dir●ection.Then silence.As I lit the● lamp to set the wick in trim an●d so deliver myself from the spell of this depa▓rture from the norm, the grave dark face ▓of my friend, like some goat-▓like apparition from the Under●world, ma

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terialized among th▓e thick branches of myrtle.We drew ●a breath and stood smiling at each ●other in the yellow light: the dark A●ssyrian ringlets, the beard of▓ Pan.‘No — I am real!’ said Balthazar ▓with a laugh and we embrace

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d furio▓usly.Balthazar! The Mediterranean is an absu▓rdly small sea; the length and greatness o▓f i

ts history makes us dream it larg●er than it is.Alexandria inde●ed — the true no less than the imagined — lay ●only some hundreds of sea-miles to the south.▓ ‘I am on my way to Smyrna’ s●aid Balthazar, ‘from where I was goi●ng to post you this.’ He laid u▓pon the scarred old table the immense bundl▓e of manuscript I had sent him — p▓apers now seared and starred by ●a massive interlinear of sentences,


p▓aragraphs and question-marks●.Seating himself opposite with h●is Mephistophelean air, he said in a lower, ▓more hesitant tone: ‘I have debated in m●yself very long about telling you▓ some of the things I have put down her▓e.At times it seemed a folly and an impert●inence.After all, your concern — was it with u●s as real people or as “char▓acters” I didn’t know.I still don’t.● These pages may los

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