356
SAMUE L BECKETT
at every expiration. Every now and then the beak would gape and for
what seemed whole seconds fishlike remain agape. Then the black
spindle of the tongue was seen to stir. The eyes, averted from
t~e
light, filled with unspeakable bewilderment and distress, seemed all
ears. Shivers of anguish rippled the plumage, blazing in ironic splen–
dour. Beneath it, on the carpet, a great news-sheet was spread.
There's my bed and there's the couch, said Helen.
They're a ll yours, said Mercier. For my part I'll sleep with none.
(
A nice little suck-off, said Camier, not too prolonged, by all
means, but nothing more.
Terminated, said Helen, the nice little suck-offs but nothing
more.
I'll lie on the floor, said Mercier, and wait for dawn. Scenes and
faces will unfold before my gaze, the rain on the skylight sound like
claws and night rehearse its colours. The longing will take me
to
throw myself out of the window, but I'll master it. He repeated, in a
roar, I'll master it!
Back in the street they wondered what they had done with the
bicycle. The sack too had disappeared.
Did you see the poll y? said Mercier.
Pretty thing, said Camier.
It groaned in the night, said Mercier.
Camier questioned this.
It will haunt me till my dying day, said Mercier.
I didn't know she had one, said Camier, what haunts me
IS
the
Kidderminster.
Nor I, said Mercier. She says she's had it for years.
She's lying of course, said Camier.
It
was still raining. They took shelter in an archway, not knowing
where to go.
When exacLiy did you notice the sack was gone? said Mercier.
This morning, said Camier, when I went to get my sulfamides.
I see no sign of the umbrella, said Mercier.
Camier inspected himself, stooping and spreading out his arms as
if concerned with a button.
We must have lefl it at Helen's, he said.
My feeling is, said Mercier, that if we don't leave this town today
we never sha ll. So let us think twice before we start .trying to-.
He almost said recoup.
What exactly was there in the sack? said Camier.
