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glare of the shops into the quiet roads of villadom； and there we
whispered instead of talking and looked closely into one another's
warm and shaded face。 〃Dear；〃 I whispered very daringly； and she
answered； 〃Dear！〃 We had a vague sense that we wanted more of that
quality of intimacy and more。 We wanted each other as one wants
beautiful music again or to breathe again the scent of flowers。
And that is all there was between us。 The events are nothing； the
thing that matters is the way in which this experience stabbed
through the common stuff of life and left it pierced； with a light；
with a huge new interest shining through the rent。
When I think of it I can recall even now the warm mystery of her
face； her lips a little apart； lips that I never kissed； her soft
shadowed throat； and I feel again the sensuous stir of her
proximity。 。 。 。
Those two girls never told me their surname nor let me approach
their house。 They made me leave them at the corner of a road of
small houses near Penge Station。 And quite abruptly； without any
intimation； they vanished and came to the meeting place no more；
they vanished as a moth goes out of a window into the night； and
left me possessed of an intolerable want。 。 。 。
The affair pervaded my existence for many weeks。 I could not do my
work and I could not rest at home。 Night after night I promenaded
up and down that Monkeys' Parade full of an unappeasable desire；
with a thwarted sense of something just begun that ought to have
gone on。 I went backwards and forwards on the way to the vanishing
place； and at last explored the forbidden road that had swallowed
them up。 But I never saw her again； except that later she came to
me； my symbol of womanhood； in dreams。 How my blood was stirred！ I
lay awake of nights whispering in the darkness for her。 I prayed
for her。
Indeed that girl； who probably forgot the last vestiges of me when
her first real kiss came to her； ruled and haunted me； gave a Queen
to my imagination and a texture to all my desires until I became a
man。
I generalised her at last。 I suddenly discovered that poetry was
about her and that she was the key to all that had hitherto seemed
nonsense about love。 I took to reading novels； and if the heroine
could not possibly be like her； dusky and warm and starlike； I put
the book aside。 。 。 。
I hesitate and add here one other confession。 I want to tell this
thing because it seems to me we are altogether too restrained and
secretive about such matters。 The cardinal thing in life sneaks in
to us darkly and shamefully like a thief in the night。
One day during my Cambridge daysit must have been in my first year
before I knew HatherleighI saw in a print…shop window near the
Strand an engraving of a girl that reminded me sharply of Penge and
its dusky encounter。 It was just a half length of a bare…
shouldered； bare…breasted Oriental with arms akimbo； smiling
faintly。 I looked at it； went my way； then turned back and bought
it。 I felt I must have it。 The odd thing is that I was more than a
little shamefaced about it。 I did not have it framed and hung in my
room open to the criticism of my friends； but I kept it in the
drawer of my writing…table。 And I kept that drawer locked for a
year。 It speedily merged with and became identified with the dark
girl of Penge。 That engraving became in a way my mistress。 Often
when I had sported my oak and was supposed to be reading； I was
sitting with it before me。
Obeying some instinct I kept the thing very secret indeed。 For a
time nobody suspected what was locked in my drawer nor what was
locked in me。 I seemed as sexless as my world required。
5
These things stabbed through my life； intimations of things above
and below and before me。 They had an air of being no more than
incidents； interruptions。
The broad substance of my existence at this time was the City
Merchants School。 Home was a place where I slept and read； and the
mooning explorations of the south…eastern postal district which
occupied the restless evenings and spare days of my vacations mere
interstices； giving glimpses of enigmatical lights and distant
spaces between the woven threads of a school…boy's career。 School
life began for me every morning at Herne Hill； for there I was
joined by three or four other boys and the rest of the way we went
together。 Most of the streets and roads we traversed in our
morning's walk from Victoria are still intact； the storms of
rebuilding that have submerged so much of my boyhood's London have
passed and left them； and I have revived the impression of them
again and again in recent years as I have clattered dinnerward in a
hansom or hummed along in a motor cab to some engagement。 The main
gate still looks out with the same expression of ancient well…
proportioned kindliness upon St。 Margaret's Close。 There are
imposing new science laboratories in Chambers Street indeed； but the
old playing fields are unaltered except for the big electric trams
that go droning and spitting blue flashes along the western
boundary。 I know Ratten； the new Head； very well； but I have not
been inside the school to see if it has changed at all since I went
up to Cambridge。
I took all they put before us very readily as a boy； for I had a
mind of vigorous appetite； but since I have grown mentally to man's
estate and developed a more and more comprehensive view of our
national process and our national needs； I am more and more struck
by the oddity of the educational methods pursued； their aimless
disconnectedness from the constructive forces in the community。 I
suppose if we are to view the public school as anything more than an
institution that has just chanced to happen； we must treat it as
having a definite function towards the general scheme of the nation；
as being in a sense designed to take the crude young male of the
more or less responsible class； to correct his harsh egotisms；
broaden his outlook； give him a grasp of the contemporary
developments he will presently be called upon to influence and
control； and send him on to the university to be made a leading and
ruling social man。 It is easy enough to carp at schoolmasters and
set up for an Educational Reformer； I know； but still it is
impossible not to feel how infinitely more effectuallygiven
certain impossibilities perhapsthe job might be done。
My memory of school has indeed no hint whatever of that quality of
elucidation it seems reasonable to demand from it。 Here all about
me was London； a vast inexplicable being； a vortex of gigantic
forces； that filled and overwhelmed me with impressions； that
stirred my imagination to a perpetual vague enquiry； and my school
not only offered no key to it； but had practically no comment to
make upon it at all。 We were within three miles of Westminster and
Charing Cross； the government offices of a fifth of mankind were all
within an hour's stroll； great economic changes were going on under
our eyes； now the hoardings flamed with election placards； now the
Salvation Army and now the unemployed came trailing in procession
through the winter…grey streets； now the newspaper placards outside
news…shops told of battles in strange places； now of amazing
discoveries； now of sinister crimes； abject squalor and poverty；
imperial splendour and luxury； Buckingham Palace； Rotten Row；
Mayfair； the slums of Pimlico； garbage…littered streets of bawling
costermongers； the inky silver of the barge…laden Thamessuch was
the background of our days。 We went across St。 Margaret's Close and
through the school gate into a quiet puerile world apart from all
these things。 We joined in the earnest acquirement of all that was
necessary for Greek epigrams and Latin verse； and for the rest
played games。 We