
[2231] Next I attacked, according to my custom, the capital question of the
effects to take with me.
[2232] And on this subject too I should have come to a
quite otiose decision but for my son, who burst in wanting to know if
he might go out.
[2233] I controlled myself.
[2234] He was wiping his mouth with the
back of his hand,
[2235] a thing I do not like to see.
[2236] But there are uglier
gestures, I speak from experience.
[2237] Out? I said. Where?
[2238] Out!
[2239] Vagueness I abhor.
[2240] I was beginning to
feel hungry.
[2241] To the Elms, he replied.
[2242] So we call our little public park.
[2243] And yet there is not an elm to be seen in it, I have been told.
[2244] What for?
I said.
[2245] To go over my botany, he replied.
[2246] There were times I suspected
my son of deceit.
[2247] This was one.
[2248] I would almost have preferred him to say,
For a walk, or, To look at the tarts. The trouble was he knew far more
than I, about botany.
[2249] Otherwise I could have set him a few teasers, on
his return.
[2250] Personally I just liked plants, in all innocence and simplic-
-ity.
[2251] I even saw in them at times a superfetatory proof of the existence
of God.
[2252] Go, I said, but be back at half-past four, I want to talk to you.
[2253] Yes papa, he said.
[2254] Yes papa!
[2255] Ah!
[2256] I slept a little.
[2257] Faster, faster.
[2258] Passing the church, something
made me stop.
[2259] I looked at the door, baroque, very fine.
[2260] I found it
hideous.
[2261] I hastened on to the presbytery.
[2262] The Father is sleeping, said
the servant.
[2263] I can wait, I said.
[2264] Is it urgent? she said.
[2265] Yes and no,
I said.
[2266] She showed me into the sitting-room, bare and bleak, dreadful.
[2267] Father Ambrose came in, rubbing his eyes.
[2268] I disturb you, Father, I said.
[2269] He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, protestingly.
[2270] I
shall not describe our attitudes, characteristic his of him, mine of me.
[2271] He offered me a cigar which I accepted with good grace and put in my
pocket, between my fountain-pen and my propelling-pencil.
[2272] He flattered
himself, Father Ambrose, with being a man of the world and knowing its ways
- Segments
Molloy © 2016 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Magessa O'Reilly, Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt