It did not matter; she would see him to-morrow when
things would be ordinary again. Her chief occupation during the day was
to try to remember how the lines went:
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber dropping hair;
and the effort worried her because the adjectives persisted in getting
into the wrong places.
The second day did not differ very much from the first day, except that
her bed had become very important, and the world outside, when she
tried to think of it, appeared distinctly further off. The glassy, cool,
translucent wave was almost visible before her, curling up at the end
of the bed, and as it was refreshingly cool she tried to keep her
mind fixed upon it. Helen was here, and Helen was there all day long;
sometimes she said that it was lunchtime, and sometimes that it was
teatime; but by the next day all landmarks were obliterated, and the
outer world was so far away that the different sounds, such as the
sounds of people moving overhead, could only be ascribed to their cause
by a great effort of memory. The recollection of what she had felt, or
of what she had been doing and thinking three days before, had faded
entirely. On the other hand, every object in the room, and the bed
itself, and her own body with its various limbs and their different
sensations were more and more important each day.
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