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moment； and then talked on。 He moved his hands； sometimes he waved
his arms。 Anne looked and listened quietly； as though she were at a
lecture。 He was a nice boy； and to…day he looked charmingcharming！
One entered the world； Denis pursued； having ready…made ideas about
everything。 One had a philosophy and tried to make life fit into it。 One
should have lived first and then made one's philosophy to fit life。。。Life；
facts； things were horribly complicated； ideas； even the most difficult of
them； deceptively simple。 In the world of ideas everything was clear； in
life all was obscure； embroiled。 Was it surprising that one was miserable；
horribly unhappy？ Denis came to a halt in front of the bench； and as he
asked this last question he stretched out his arms and stood for an instant
in an attitude of crucifixion； then let them fall again to his sides。
〃My poor Denis！〃 Anne was touched。 He was really too pathetic as
he stood there in front of her in his white flannel trousers。 〃But does one
suffer about these things？ It seems very extraordinary。〃
〃You're like Scogan；〃 cried Denis bitterly。 〃You regard me as a
specimen for an anthropologist。 Well； I suppose I am。〃
〃No； no；〃 she protested； and drew in her skirt with a gesture that
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indicated that he was to sit down beside her。 He sat down。 〃Why can't
you just take things for granted and as they come？〃 she asked。 〃It's so
much simpler。〃
〃Of course it is；〃 said Denis。 〃But it's a lesson to be learnt gradually。
There are the twenty tons of ratiocination to be got rid of first。〃
〃I've always taken things as they come；〃 said Anne。 〃It seems so
obvious。 One enjoys the pleasant things； avoids the nasty ones。 There's
nothing more to be said。〃
〃Nothingfor you。 But； then； you were born a pagan； I am trying
laboriously to make myself one。 I can take nothing for granted； I can
enjoy nothing as it comes along。 Beauty； pleasure； art； womenI have to
invent an excuse； a justification for everything that's delightful。
Otherwise I can't enjoy it with an easy conscience。 I make up a little
story about beauty and pretend that it has something to do with truth and
goodness。 I have to say that art is the process by which one reconstructs
the divine reality out of chaos。 Pleasure is one of the mystical roads to
union with the infinitethe ecstasies of drinking； dancing； love…making。
As for women； I am perpetually assuring myself that they're the broad
highway to divinity。 And to think that I'm only just beginning to see
through the silliness of the whole thing！ It's incredible to me that anyone
should have escaped these horrors。〃
〃It's still more incredible to me；〃 said Anne； 〃that anyone should have
been a victim to them。 I should like to see myself believing that men are
the highway to divinity。〃 The amused malice of her smile planted two
little folds on either side of her mouth； and through their half…closed lids
her eyes shone with laughter。 〃What you need； Denis； is a nice plump
young wife； a fixed income； and a little congenial but regular work。〃
〃What I need is you。〃 That was what he ought to have retorted； that
was what he wanted passionately to say。 He could not say it。 His desire
fought against his shyness。 〃What I need is you。〃 Mentally he shouted
the words； but not a sound issued from his lips。 He looked at her
despairingly。 Couldn't she see what was going on inside him？ Couldn't
she understand？ 〃What I need is you。〃 He would say it； he wouldhe
would。
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〃I think I shall go and bathe；〃 said Anne。 〃It's so hot。〃 The
opportunity had passed。
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CHAPTER V。
Mr。 Wimbush had taken them to see the sights of the Home Farm； and
now they were standing； all six of themHenry Wimbush； Mr。 Scogan；
Denis； Gombauld； Anne； and Maryby the low wall of the piggery；
looking into one of the styes。
〃This is a good sow；〃 said Henry Wimbush。 〃She had a litter of
fourteen。
〃Fourteen？〃 Mary echoed incredulously。 She turned astonished blue
eyes towards Mr。 Wimbush； then let them fall onto the seething mass of
elan vital that fermented in the sty。
An immense sow reposed on her side in the middle of the pen。 Her
round； black belly； fringed with a double line of dugs； presented itself to
the assault of an army of small； brownish…black swine。 With a frantic
greed they tugged at their mother's flank。 The old sow stirred sometimes
uneasily or uttered a little grunt of pain。 One small pig； the runt； the
weakling of the litter； had been unable to secure a place at the banquet。
Squealing shrilly； he ran backwards and forwards； trying to push in among
his stronger brothers or even to climb over their tight little black backs
towards the maternal reservoir。
〃There ARE fourteen；〃 said Mary。 〃You're quite right。 I counted。
It's extraordinary。〃 〃The sow next door；〃 Mr。 Wimbush went on； 〃has
done very badly。 She only had five in her litter。 I shall give her another
chance。 If she does no better next time； I shall fat her up and kill her。
There's the boar；〃 he pointed towards a farther sty。 〃Fine old beast； isn't he？
But he's getting past his prime。 He'll have to go too。〃
〃How cruel！〃 Anne exclaimed。
〃But how practical； how eminently realistic！〃 said Mr。 Scogan。 〃In this
farm we have a model of sound paternal government。 Make them breed；
make them work； and when they're past working or breeding or begetting；
slaughter them。〃
〃Farming seems to be mostly indecency and cruelty；〃 said Anne。
With the ferrule of his walking…stick Denis began to scratch the boar's
long bristly back。 The animal moved a little so as to bring himself within
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easier range of the instrument that evoked in him such delicious sensations；
then he stood stock still； softly grunting his contentment。 The mud of
years flaked off his sides in a grey powdery scurf。
〃What a pleasure it is；〃 said Denis； 〃to do somebody a kindness。 I
believe I enjoy scratching this pig quite as much as he enjoys being
scratched。 If only one could always be kind with so little expense or
trouble。。。〃
A gate slammed； there was a sound of heavy footsteps。
〃Morning； Rowley！〃 said Henry Wimbush。
〃Morning； sir；〃 old Rowley answered。 He was the most venerable of
the labourers on the farma tall； solid man； still unbent； with grey side…
whiskers and a steep； dignified profile。 Grave； weighty in his manner；
splendidly respectable； Rowley had the air of a great English statesman of
the mid…nineteenth century。 He halted on the outskirts of the group； and
for a moment they all looked at the pigs in a silence that was only broken
by the sound of grunting or the squelch of a sharp hoof in the mire。
Rowley turned at last； slowly and ponderously and nobly； as he did
everything； and addressed himself to Henry Wimbush。
〃Look at them； sir；〃 he said； with a motion of his hand towards the
wallowing swine。 〃Rightly is they called pigs。〃
〃Rightly indeed；〃 Mr。 Wimbush agreed。
〃I am abashed by that man；〃 said Mr。 Scogan； as old Rowley plodded
off slowly and with dignity。 〃What wisdom； what judgment； what a
sense of values！ 'Rightly ar