DOI Artikel:
Cross, Victoria: Theodora: a fragment
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21805#0170
166 Theodora
straint and bother of taking care one does not go to sleep and
roll off.”
“But suppose you did, you would then but be upon the
floor.”
u Quite so ; but I should have the pain of falling.”
Our eyes met across the red flare of the firelight.
Theodora went on jestingly : “ Now, these are the ethics of
the couch and the floor. I lay myself voluntarily on the floor,
knowing it thoroughly as a trifle low, but undeceptive and favourable
to the condition of sleep which will probably arise, and suitable to
my requirements of ease and space. I avoid the restricted and
uncertain couch, recognising that if I fall to sleep on that raised
level, and the desire to Stretch myself should come, I shall awake
with pain and shock to feel the ground, and see above me the
couch from which I feil—do you see ? ”
She spoke lightly, and with a smile, and I listened with one.
But her eyes told me that these ethics of the couch and floor
covered the ethics of life.
“ No, you must accept the necessity of the floor, I think, unless
you like to forego your sleep and have the trouble of taking care to
stick upon your couch ; and for me the difference of level between
the two is not worth the additional bother.”
She laughed, and I joined her.
“ What do you think ? ” she asked.
I looked at her as she sat opposite me, the firelight playing all
over her, from the turn of her knee just marked beneath her skirt
to her splendid shoulders, and the smooth soft hand and wrist
supporting the distinguished little head. I did not teil her what
I was thinking ; what I said was : “You are very logical. I am
quite convinced there’s no place like the ground for a siesta.”
Theodora laughed, and laid her hand on the bell.
A second
straint and bother of taking care one does not go to sleep and
roll off.”
“But suppose you did, you would then but be upon the
floor.”
u Quite so ; but I should have the pain of falling.”
Our eyes met across the red flare of the firelight.
Theodora went on jestingly : “ Now, these are the ethics of
the couch and the floor. I lay myself voluntarily on the floor,
knowing it thoroughly as a trifle low, but undeceptive and favourable
to the condition of sleep which will probably arise, and suitable to
my requirements of ease and space. I avoid the restricted and
uncertain couch, recognising that if I fall to sleep on that raised
level, and the desire to Stretch myself should come, I shall awake
with pain and shock to feel the ground, and see above me the
couch from which I feil—do you see ? ”
She spoke lightly, and with a smile, and I listened with one.
But her eyes told me that these ethics of the couch and floor
covered the ethics of life.
“ No, you must accept the necessity of the floor, I think, unless
you like to forego your sleep and have the trouble of taking care to
stick upon your couch ; and for me the difference of level between
the two is not worth the additional bother.”
She laughed, and I joined her.
“ What do you think ? ” she asked.
I looked at her as she sat opposite me, the firelight playing all
over her, from the turn of her knee just marked beneath her skirt
to her splendid shoulders, and the smooth soft hand and wrist
supporting the distinguished little head. I did not teil her what
I was thinking ; what I said was : “You are very logical. I am
quite convinced there’s no place like the ground for a siesta.”
Theodora laughed, and laid her hand on the bell.
A second