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distant railway to Luino； the busy boats and steamers trailing
triangular wakes of foam； the long vista eastward towards
battlemented Bellinzona； the vast mountain distances； now tinged
with sunset light； behind this nearer landscape； and the southward
waters with remote coast towns shining dimly； waters that merged at
last in a luminous golden haze； made a broad panoramic spectacle。
It was as if one surveyed the world；and it was like the games I
used to set out upon my nursery floor。 I was exalted by it； I felt
larger than men。 So kings should feel。
That sense of largness came to me then； and it has come to me since；
again and again； a splendid intimation or a splendid vanity。 Once；
I remember； when I looked at Genoa from the mountain crest behind
the town and saw that multitudinous place in all its beauty of width
and abundance and clustering human effort； and once as I was
steaming past the brown low hills of Staten Island towards the
towering vigour and clamorous vitality of New York City； that mood
rose to its quintessence。 And once it came to me； as I shall tell；
on Dover cliffs。 And a hundred times when I have thought of England
as our country might be； with no wretched poor； no wretched rich； a
nation armed and ordered； trained and purposeful amidst its vales
and rivers； that emotion of collective ends and collective purposes
has returned to me。 I felt as great as humanity。 For a brief
moment I was humanity； looking at the world I had made and had still
to make。 。 。 。
12
And mingled with these dreams of power and patriotic service there
was another series of a different quality and a different colour；
like the antagonistic colour of a shot silk。 The white life and the
red life； contrasted and interchanged； passing swiftly at a turn
from one to another； and refusing ever to mingle peacefully one with
the other。 I was asking myself openly and distinctly： what are you
going to do for the world？ What are you going to do with yourself？
and with an increasing strength and persistence Nature in spite of
my averted attention was asking me in penetrating undertones： what
are you going to do about this other fundamental matter； the beauty
of girls and women and your desire for them？
I have told of my sisterless youth and the narrow circumstances of
my upbringing。 It made all women…kind mysterious to me。 If it had
not been for my Staffordshire cousins I do not think I should have
known any girls at all until I was twenty。 Of Staffordshire I will
tell a little later。 But I can remember still how through all those
ripening years； the thought of women's beauty； their magic presence
in the world beside me and the unknown； untried reactions of their
intercourse； grew upon me and grew； as a strange presence grows in a
room when one is occupied by other things。 I busied myself and
pretended to be wholly occupied； and there the woman stood； full
half of life neglected； and it seemed to my averted mind sometimes
that she was there clad and dignified and divine； and sometimes
Aphrodite shining and commanding； and sometimes that Venus who
stoops and allures。
This travel abroad seemed to have released a multitude of things in
my mind； the clear air； the beauty of the sunshine； the very blue of
the glaciers made me feel my body and quickened all those
disregarded dreams。 I saw the sheathed beauty of women's forms all
about me； in the cheerful waitresses at the inns； in the pedestrians
one encountered in the tracks； in the chance fellow travellers at
the hotel tables。 〃Confound it！〃 said I； and talked all the more
zealously of that greater England that was calling us。
I remember that we passed two Germans； an old man and a tall fair
girl； father and daughter； who were walking down from Saas。 She
came swinging and shining towards us； easy and strong。 I worshipped
her as she approached。
〃Gut Tag！〃 said Willersley； removing his hat。
〃Morgen！〃 said the old man； saluting。
I stared stockishly at the girl； who passed with an indifferent
face。
That sticks in my mind as a picture remains in a room； it has kept
there bright and fresh as a thing seen yesterday； for twenty
years。 。 。 。
I flirted hesitatingly once or twice with comely serving girls； and
was a little ashamed lest Willersley should detect the keen interest
I took in them； and then as we came over the pass from Santa Maria
Maggiore to Cannobio； my secret preoccupation took me by surprise
and flooded me and broke down my pretences。
The women in that valley are very beautifulwomen vary from valley
to valley in the Alps and are plain and squat here and divinities
five miles awayand as we came down we passed a group of five or
six of them resting by the wayside。 Their burthens were beside
them； and one like Ceres held a reaping hook in her brown hand。 She
watched us approaching and smiled faintly； her eyes at mine。
There was some greeting； and two of them laughed together。
We passed。
〃Glorious girls they were；〃 said Willersley； and suddenly an immense
sense of boredom enveloped me。 I saw myself striding on down that
winding road； talking of politics and parties and bills of
parliament and all sorts of dessicated things。 That road seemed to
me to wind on for ever down to dust and infinite dreariness。 I knew
it for a way of death。 Reality was behind us。
Willersley set himself to draw a sociological moral。 〃I'm not so
sure；〃 he said in a voice of intense discriminations； 〃after all；
that agricultural work isn't good for women。〃
〃Damn agricultural work！〃 I said； and broke out into a vigorous
cursing of all I held dear。 〃Fettered things we are！〃 I cried。 〃I
wonder why I stand it！〃
〃Stand what？〃
〃Why don't I go back and make love to those girls and let the world
and you and everything go hang？ Deep breasts and rounded limbsand
we poor emasculated devils go tramping by with the blood of youth in
us！ 。 。 。〃
〃I'm not quite sure； Remington；〃 said Willersley； looking at me with
a deliberately quaint expression over his glasses； 〃that picturesque
scenery is altogether good for your morals。〃
That fever was still in my blood when we came to Locarno。
13
Along the hot and dusty lower road between the Orrido of Traffiume
and Cannobio Willersley had developed his first blister。 And partly
because of that and partly because there was a bag at the station
that gave us the refreshment of clean linen and partly because of
the lazy lower air into which we had come； we decided upon three or
four days' sojourn in the Empress Hotel。
We dined that night at a table…d'hote； and I found myself next to an
Englishwoman who began a conversation that was resumed presently in
the hotel lounge。 She was a woman of perhaps thirty…three or
thirty…four； slenderly built； with a warm reddish skin and very
abundant fair golden hair； the wife of a petulant…looking heavy…
faced man of perhaps fifty…three； who smoked a cigar and dozed over
his coffee and presently went to bed。 〃He always goes to bed like
that；〃 she confided startlingly。 〃He sleeps after all his meals。 I
never knew such a man to sleep。〃
Then she returned to our talk； whatever it was。
We had begun at the dinner table with itineraries and the usual
topographical talk； and she had envied our pedestrian travel。 〃My
husband doesn't walk；〃 she said。 〃His heart is weak and he cannot
manage the hills。〃
There was something friendly and adventurous in her manner； she
conveyed she liked me； and when presently Willersley drifted off to
write letters our talk sank at once to easy confidential undertones。
I felt enterprising； and indeed it is easy to be daring with people
one has never seen before and may never see again。 I said I loved
beautiful s