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.The poker games and the other diversions and even the Black Masses were seldom mentioned again, although sometimes an image on the television screen of some or another young woman would prompt one or more of the young men to reminisce as it were, about the good looks of the high-class call girls.It began to seem to the chief character as though he had been left in charge of the house; the less the others talked about it, the more clearly and substantially it began to appear in his own mind.Sometimes, when the house had first been talked about, he had given much thought to protecting his privacy; and he had seen himself often in his mind as being alone in his rooms in the late afternoon or the early evening and trying not to be distracted by some or another drunken shout or playful squeal from far below.As the others in the upstairs flat talked less about the building of several storeys, it seemed in his mind sometimes so quiet that he might have felt urged to go downstairs and to stroll around the deserted chapel until he had recalled a few hectic moments from some or another orgy that he had watched long before.The chief character had often sustained himself with daydreams about his future, but his wandering around a disused convent in his mind seemed unconnected with any life that he had previously wanted for himself.The empty upstairs rooms seemed more solid than any scenery from daydreams; the rooms seemed to be on the same level of existence as things that he would have called his faculties or his qualities; the rooms even caused him to feel a more ample person and a more worthy.He was no mere observer of mental scenery.He was not long in learning that he could alter certain details and have them stay as he preferred them to be.He had wanted for some time to extend the part of the building that he thought of as his own.His particular wish was for more dormer windows, each with an attic-like room behind it.Then, after no effort that he could recall, he seemed to be strolling past doorway after doorway in a corridor that he did not recognise.When next he looked upwards towards his quarters from the grounds around the building, an entire wing seemed to have been added.His desk and his bookshelves, not to mention his rooms filled with models, were now even further away from the main living area.Even if the other young men and the high-class call-girls were to settle in the building after all, he would hear scarcely a sound from them.He was in no hurry to call in the model-makers.He was now of a mind to have a number of attic-rooms filled each with a racecourse but he supposed that this would disturb the quietness of his suite for many weeks or even for months.For the time being, he was content to experience the subtle differences between room and room: in one room a red-gold hair still lay in the crack between two floorboards from the last days before the last girl-boarder there had gone home to her parents’ property far inland; in another room the hair, if he could have lighted on it, would have been black; the window of yet another room was the only window in all the building from which a person looking out might have seen on a day of sunshine the occasional distant flash of light from the windscreen of a motor-car and might have understood how far away was the nearest main road.(Seemingly, the chief character had shifted the building by the power of his imagination or by a supreme effort of his will; the reader will recall that the original of the building of several storeys was in one or another street of a small town.) Some rooms were distinguished one from another only by the mood that came over the chief character after he had stepped inside and had closed the door behind him.Perhaps the glimpse of the distant countryside that came to him through the sides of his eyes put him in mind of Tasmania or New Zealand, although he had never been to either of those places.Perhaps he felt weak and foolish to be an adult and yet to be devising elaborate games with painted toys.Perhaps, on the other hand, he felt that his life was all of a piece: the imagery that had sustained him as a child could yield still more meaning in his later life.This last-mentioned feeling came to him sometimes accompanied by an image of an old man staring at the shore of a lake or a swamp where a gentle wave was breaking against a clump of rushes.The original of the image was a photograph of the psychiatrist C.G.Jung that had once appeared on the cover of the news-magazine Time.The chief character had read the long article that accompanied the photograph.He had not been able to understand the theories of the famous psychiatrist but he, the chief character, never afterwards forgot his having read that the psychiatrist as an old man had set out to play again his favourite childhood games in the hope of learning about himself something of much value.The chief character was most likely to bring to mind the building of several storeys during the many weekday evenings when he was alone in his rented room and was trying to write poetry or prose fiction [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]