Aaron felt very queer.
“But for how long will you settle down—?” he asked.
“Oh, only the winter. I am a vagrant really: or a migrant. I must migrate. Do you think a cuckoo in Africa and a cuckoo in Essex is one AND the same bird? Anyhow, I know I must oscillate between north and south, so oscillate I do. It's just my nature. All people don't have the same needs.”
“Perhaps not,” said Aaron, who had risen and was sitting on the side of the bed.
“I would very much like to try life in another continent, among another race. I feel Europe becoming like a cage to me. Europe may be all right in herself. But I find myself chafing. Another year I shall get out. I shall leave Europe. I begin to feel caged.”
“I guess there are others that feel caged, as well as you,” said Aaron.
“I guess there are.”
“And maybe they haven't a chance to get out.”
Lilly was silent a moment. Then he said:
“Well, I didn't make life and society. I can only go my own way.”