MS-WU-MSS008-3-50-2

[3899] the habit of speech. [3900] But had I not said already, with relief, at the
mere sight of his back, He's a foreigner. [3901] Would you like a tin of
sardines? I said. [3902] He asked for bread and I offered him fish. [3903] That is
me all over. [3904] Bread, he said. [3905] I went into the shelter and took the piece
of bread I was keeping for my son, ^{[place = inline] [⁁] [place = supralinear] who} would probably be hungry when he came
back.

[3906] I gave it ^{[place = inline] [|]} to him. [3907] I expected him to devour it there and then. [3908] But
he broke it in two and put the pieces in ho ^{[place = overwritten] i}s coat-pockets. [3909] Do you mind if
I look at your stick? I said. [3910] I stretched out my hand. [3911] He did not move.
[3912] I put my hand on the stick, just under his. [3913] I could feel his fingers
gradually letting go. [3914] Not ^{[place = supralinear] w} it was I who held the stick. [3915] Its lightness
astounded me.

[3916] I put it back in his hand. [3917] He threw me a last look and
went. [3918] It was almost dark. [3919] He walked with swift uncertain step, often
changing his course, dragging the stick like a hindrance. [3920] I wished I
could have stood there looking after him, and time at a standstill. [3921] I
wished I could have been in the middle of a desert, under the midday sun,
to look after him till he was only a dot, on the edge of the horizon.

[3922] I
stayed out in the air for a long time. [3923] Every now and then I listened.
[3924] But my son did not come. [3925] Beginning to feel cold I went back in to the
shelter and lay down, under my son's raincoat. [3926] But beginning to feel
sleepy I went out again and lit a big wood-fire, to guide my son towards
me.

[3927] When the fire had kindled I said, Why of course, now I can warm
myself! [3928] I warmed myself, rubbing my hands together after having held
them to the flame and before holding them to it again, and turning my
back to the flame and lifting the tail of my coat, and turning as on a
spit.

[3929] And in the end, overcome with heat and weariness, I lay down on
the ground near the fire and fell asleep, saying, Perhaps a spark will
set fire to my clothes and I wake a living torch. [3930] And saying many other
things besides, belonging to separate and apparently unconnected trains