Not only was it socially
advisable for Rachel to study the perverse nature of the bicycle at
night--for not to know how to ride the bicycle was as shameful as not
to know how to read and write--but she preferred the night for the
romantic feeling of being alone with Louis, in the dark and above the
glow of the town. She loved the sharp night wind on her cheek, and
the faint clandestine rustling of the low evergreens within the park
palisade, and the invisible and almost tangible soft sky, revealed
round the horizon by gleams of fire. She had longed to ride the
bicycle as some girls long to follow the hunt or to steer an
automobile or a yacht. And now her ambition was being attained amid
all circumstances of bliss.
And yet she would shrink from beginning the lesson.
"The lamp! You've forgotten to light the lamp!" she said.
"Get on," said he.
"But suppose a policeman comes?"
"Suppose you get on and start! Do you think I don't know you?
Policemen are my affair. Besides, all nice policemen are in bed....
Don't be afraid. It isn't alive. I've got hold of the thing. Sit well
down. No! There are only two pedals. You seem to think there are about
nineteen. Right! No, no, _no_! Don't--do not--cling to those
blooming handle-bars as if you were in a storm at sea.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288