30
ROBERT MUSil
one mixed with them, as Homo did when he was in search of Grigia,
one might just as easily start in sudden fright at this crude dignity. But
Grigia was seldom among them, and when at last he found her, she
would perhaps be crouching in a potato-field, laughing at him. He
knew she had nothing on but two petticoats and that the dry earth
that was running through her slim, rough fingers was also touching her
body. But the thought of it was no longer strange to him. By now his
inner being had become curiously familiar with the touch of earth,
and perhaps indeed it was not at the time of the hay-harvest at all that
he met her in that field: in this life he was leading there was no longer
any certainty about time or place.
The hay barns were filled. Through the chinks between the
boards a silvery light poured in. The hay poured out green light.
Under the door was a wide gold border.
The hay smelled sour- like the Negro drinks that are made of
fermented fruits and human saliva. One had only to remember that
one was living among savages here, and the next instant one was
intoxicated by the heat of this confined space filled to the roof with
fermenting hay.
Hay bears one up in all positions. One can stand in it up to the
knees, at once unsure of one's footing and all too firmly held fast. One
can lie in it as in the Hand of God, and would gladly wallow in God's
Hand like a little dog or a little pig. One may lie obliquely, or almost
upright like a saint ascending to heaven in a green cloud.
Those were bridal days and ascension days.
But one time Grigia declared it could not go on. He could not
bring her to say why. The sharpness round the mouth and the little
furrow plumb between the eyes, which before had appeared only with
the effort of deciding which would be the nicest barn for their next
meeting, now boded ill weather somewhere in the offing. Were they
being talked about? But the other women, who did perhaps notice
something, were always as smiling as over a thing one is glad to see.
There was nothing to be got out of Grigia. She made excuses and
was more rarely to be found, and she watched her words as carefully
as any mistrustful farmer.
Once Homo met with a bad omen. His puttees had come un–
done and he was standing by a hedge winding them on again, when
a peasant woman went .by and said in a friendly way: "Let thy
