And suddenly ... what did it all mean? I no longer understood. That outburst of cries, that tempest, that sort of comedy, my reply ... what ... I went and sat down, tempted equally to laugh and to cry. I wanted to think ... but it was already done, an almost outside force was pushing me off my hinges. "Escaped!" I was like a prisoner who sees the door left open inadvertently.
I knocked gently, my entire presence of mind returning to me in a rush. Leontine came with a pseudo-contrite expression and an air of saying "Hush!" while beneath her manner was the concentrated delight of an animal lying in wait. "They are at dinner," she whispered while I got my things together, a frock, a blouse, some toilet articles, a little money, some linen, a few books.
I closed the front door on myself, slowly, without faltering, slowly. It was done. It was not difficult.
A faint wind blew from the street below which chilled me.... Ah, you are trembling already, you are drawing back. That fine courage of yours, where is it? Where is your all-powerful will, and your still surer hope?...
It was not out of cowardice that I was trembling; but as I advanced towards my Self, street by street, house by house, through my first ordeal, I got a blunter, deeper knowledge of my Self, and a sudden fear entered my breast.
I am really not a strong person. What had been struggling in me so forcibly was not my own strength; it was simply the reaction from the others. A strong person would know at the very first step what mandate to derive from the power animating him; before destroying he would have built up. When a bird finds its cage open and takes flight, it does not hesitate, it has the idea of space, it spreads its wings, it knows where to fly, and how high.
I know nothing. I am setting out, that's all. Neither before nor behind me is the irresistible urge which is the start of a great career. Nor do I see close by the rising shape of my life. Nor about me is the ringing mirth of faery liberty. Nothing but a little tiredness, a little emptiness in my head, a little emptiness in my heart.... I am not a strong person.
Good-bye, mother, good-bye to your transparent eyes, to your shoulders which will always shrug for the wrong side, good-bye to your tender lying.
You see, I am no longer faint-hearted, because I can walk away from you forever and venture upon a vague future without a glow of eagerness. All I need is something to beckon to me.... There is nothing ahead of me except the quiet artery of a thoroughfare hemmed in by inky houses and the darkness, which melts away at the panes of the street-lamps and makes them dance and quiver below and twinkle like eyes at the top. Liberty has the taste of fog....
BOARDING-HOUSE