aware that he wanted something else; aware that he was scarcely
living。 There seemed to him to be no root to his life; no place
for him to get satisfied in。 He dreamed of going abroad。 But his
instinct knew that change of place would not solve his problem。
He wanted change; deep; vital change of living。 And he did not
know how to get it。
Tilly; an old woman now; came in saying that the labourers
who had been suppering up said the yard and everywhere was just
a slew of water。 He heard in indifference。 But he hated a
desolate; raw wetness in the world。 He would leave the
Marsh。
His mother was in bed。 At last he shut his book; his mind was
blank; he walked upstairs intoxicated with depression and anger;
and; intoxicated with depression and anger; locked himself into
sleep。
Tilly set slippers before the kitchen fire; and she also went
to bed; leaving the door unlocked。 Then the farm was in
darkness; in the rain。
At eleven oclock it was still raining。 Tom Brangwen stood in
the yard of the 〃Angel〃; Nottingham; and buttoned his coat。
〃Oh; well;〃 he said cheerfully; 〃its rained on me before。
Put er in; Jack; my lad; put her in……Thart a rare old
cock; Jacky…boy; wi a belly on thee as does credit to thy
drink; if not to thy corn。 Co up lass; lets get off ter th
old homestead。 Oh; my heart; what a wetness in the night!
Therell be no volcanoes after this。 Hey; Jack; my beautiful
young slender feller; which of us is Noah? It seems as though
the water…works is bursted。 Ducks and ayquatic fowl ll be king
o the castle at this rate……dove an olive branch an all。
Stand up then; gel; stand up; were not stoppin here all night;
even if you thought we was。 Im dashed if the jumping rain
wouldnt make anybody think they was drunk。 Hey; Jack……does
rain…water wash the sense in; or does it wash it out?〃 And he
laughed to himself at the joke。