Moments of being1

"Slater's pins have no points" "Slater's pins have no points--don't you always find that?" said Miss Craye, turning round as the rose fell out of Fanny ilmot's dress, and Fanny stooped, with her ears full of the musi!, to loo" for the pin on the floor# $he words gave her an e%traordinary sho!", as Miss Craye stru!" the last !hord of the &a!h fugue# 'id Miss Craye a!tually go to Slater's and buy pins then, Fanny ilmot as"ed herself, transfi%ed for a moment# 'id she stand at the !ounter waiting li"e anybody else, and was she given a bill with !oppers wrapped in it, and did she slip them into her purse and then, an hour later, stand by her dressing table and ta"e out the pins? hat need had she of pins? For she was not so mu!h dressed as !ased, li"e a beetle !ompa!tly in its sheath, blue in winter, green in summer# hat need had she of pins-(ulia Craye--who lived, it seemed in the !ool glassy world of &a!h fugues, playing to herself what she li"ed, to ta"e one or two pupils at the one and only !onsenting )r!her Street College of Musi! *so the +rin!ipal, Miss ,ingston, said- as a spe!ial favour to herself, who had "the greatest admiration for her in every way#" Miss Craye was left badly off, Miss ,ingston was afraid, at her brother's death# .h, they used to have su!h lovely things, when they lived at Salisbury, and her brother (ulius was, of !ourse, a very well-"nown man/ a famous ar!haeologist# 0t was a great privilege to stay with them, Miss ,ingston said *"My family had always "nown them--they were regular Canterbury people," Miss ,ingston said-, but a little frightening for a !hild1 one had to be !areful not to slam the door or boun!e into the room une%pe!tedly# Miss ,ingston, who gave little !hara!ter s"et!hes li"e this on the first day of term while she re!eived !he2ues and wrote out re!eipts for them, smiled here# 3es, she had been rather a tomboy1 she had boun!ed in and set all those green 4oman glasses and things 5umping in their !ase# $he Crayes were not used to !hildren# $he Crayes were none of them married# $hey "ept !ats1 the !ats, one used to feel, "new as mu!h about the 4oman urns and things as anybody# "Far more than 0 did6" said Miss ,ingston brightly, writing her name a!ross the stamp in her dashing, !heerful, full-bodied hand, for she had always been pra!ti!al# $hat was how she made her living, after all# +erhaps then, Fanny ilmot thought, loo"ing for the pin, Miss Craye said that about "Slater's pins having no points," at a venture# 7one of the Crayes had ever married# She "new nothing about pins--nothing whatever# &ut she wanted to brea" the spell that had fallen on the house1 to brea" the pane of glass whi!h separated them from other people# hen +olly ,ingston, that merry little girl, had slammed the door and made the 4oman vases 5ump, (ulius, seeing that no harm was done *that would be his first instin!tloo"ed, for the !ase was stood in the window, at +olly s"ipping home a!ross the fields1 loo"ed with the loo" his sister often had, that lingering, driving loo"#
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Pria peuzeta iz * A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *; eBook No.: 0200781.t t; !itle: "oolf #$ort #tories; Aut$or: %irginia "oolf; &anguage: 'nglis$; (ate first )oste*: +ctober 2002; (ate ,ost recentlu)*ate*: +ctober 2002; !$is eBook .as )ro*uce* b-: /ol /$oat

"Stars, sun, moon," it seemed to say, "the daisy in the grass, fires, frost on the window pane, my heart goes out to you# &ut," it always seemed to add, "you brea", you pass, you go#" )nd simultaneously it !overed the intensity of both these states of mind with "0 !an't rea!h you--0 !an't get at you," spo"en wistfully, frustratedly# )nd the stars faded, and the !hild went# $hat was the "ind of spell that was the glassy surfa!e, that Miss Craye wanted to brea" by showing, when she had played &a!h beautifully as a reward to a favourite pupil *Fanny ilmot "new that she was Miss Craye's favourite pupil-, that she, too, "new,li"e other people, about pins# Slater's pins had no points# 3es, the "famous ar!haeologist" had loo"ed li"e that too# "$he famous ar!haeologist"--as she said that, endorsing !he2ues, as!ertaining the day of the month, spea"ing so brightly and fran"ly, there was in Miss ,ingston's voi!e an indes!ribable tone whi!h hinted at something odd1 something 2ueer in (ulius Craye1 it was the very same thing that was odd perhaps in (ulia too# .ne !ould have sworn, thought Fanny ilmot, as she loo"ed for the pin, that at parties, meetings *Miss ,ingston's father was a !lergyman-, she had pi!"ed up some pie!e of gossip, or it might only have been a smile, or a tone when his name was mentioned, whi!h had given her "a feeling" about (ulius Craye# 7eedless to say, she had never spo"en about it to anybody# +robably she s!ar!ely "new what she meant by it# &ut whenever she spo"e of (ulius, or heard him mentioned, that was the first thing that !ame to mind1 and it was a sedu!tive thought1 there was something odd about (ulius Craye# 0t was so that (ulia loo"ed too, as she sat half turned on the musi! stool, smiling# 0t's on the field, it's on the pane, it's in the s"y--beauty1 and 0 !an't get at it1 0 !an't have it--0, she seemed to add, with that little !lut!h of the hand whi!h was so !hara!teristi!, who adore it so passionately, would give the whole world to possess it6 )nd she pi!"ed up the !arnation whi!h had fallen on the floor, while Fanny sear!hed for the pin# She !rushed it, Fanny felt, voluptuously in her smooth veined hands stu!" about with water!oloured rings set in pearls# $he pressure of her fingers seemed to in!rease all that was most brilliant in the flower1 to set it off1 to ma"e it more frilled, fresh, imma!ulate# hat was odd in her, and perhaps in her brother, too, was that this !rush and grasp of the finger was !ombined with a perpetual frustration# So it was even now with the !arnation# She had her hands on it1 she pressed it1 but she did not possess it, en5oy it, not entirely and altogether# 7one of the Crayes had married, Fanny ilmot remembered# She had in mind how one evening when the lesson had lasted longer than usual and it was dar", (ulia Craye had said "it's the use of men, surely, to prote!t us," smiling at her that same odd smile, as she stood fastening her !loa",whi!h made her, li"e the flower, !ons!ious to her finger tips of youth and brillian!e, but, li"e the flower, too, Fanny suspe!ted, made her feel aw"ward# ".h, but 0 don't want prote!tion," Fanny had laughed, and when (ulia Craye, fi%ing on her that e%traordinary loo", had said she was not so sure of that, Fanny positively blushed under the admiration in her eyes# 0t was the only use of men, she had said# as it for that reason then, Fanny wondered, with her eyes on the floor, that she had never married? )fter all, she had not lived all her life in Salisbury# "Mu!h the ni!est part of 8ondon," she had said on!e, "*but 0'm spea"ing of fifteen or twenty years ago- is ,ensington# .ne was in the 9ardens in ten

minutes--it was li"e the heart of the !ountry# .ne !ould dine out in one's slippers without !at!hing !old# ,ensington--it was li"e a village then, you "now," she had said# ;ere she bro"e off, to denoun!e a!ridly the draughts in the $ubes# "0t was the use of men," she had said, with a 2ueer wry a!erbity# 'id that throw any light on the problem why she had not married? .ne !ould imagine every sort of s!ene in her youth, when with her good blue eyes, her straight firm nose, her air of !ool distin!tion, her piano playing, her rose flowering with !haste passion in the bosom of her muslin dress,she had attra!ted first the young men to whom su!h things, the !hina tea !ups and the silver !andlesti!"s and the inlaid table, for the Crayes had su!h ni!e things, were wonderful1 young men not suffi!iently distinguished1 young men of the !athedral town with ambitions# She had attra!ted them first, and then her brother's friends from .%ford or Cambridge# $hey would !ome down in the summer1 row her on the river1 !ontinue the argument about &rowning by letter1 and arrange perhaps, on the rare o!!asions when she stayed in 8ondon, to show her ,ensington 9ardens? "Mu!h the ni!est part of 8ondon--,ensington *0'm spea"ing of fifteen or twenty years ago-," she had said on!e# .ne was in the gardens in ten minutes--in the heart of the !ountry# .ne !ould ma"e that yield what one li"ed, Fanny ilmot thought, single out, for instan!e, Mr# Sherman, the painter, an old friend of hers1 ma"e him !all for her, by appointment, one sunny day in (une1 ta"e her to have tea under the trees# *$hey had met, too, at those parties to whi!h one tripped in slippers without fear of !at!hing !old#- $he aunt or other elderly relative was to wait there while they loo"ed at the Serpentine# $hey loo"ed at the Serpentine# ;e may have rowed her a!ross# $hey !ompared it with the )von# She would have !onsidered the !omparison very furiously# <iews of rivers were important to her# She sat hun!hed a little, a little angular, though she was gra!eful then, steering# )t the !riti!al moment, for he had determined that he must spea" now--it was his only !han!e of getting her alone--he was spea"ing with his head turned at an absurd angle, in his great nervousness, over his shoulder--at that very moment she interrupted fier!ely# ;e would have them into the &ridge, she !ried# 0t was a moment of horror, of disillusionment, of revelation, for both of them# 0 !an't have it, 0 !an't possess it, she thought# ;e !ould not see why she had !ome then# ith a great splash of his oar he pulled the boat round# Merely to snub him? ;e rowed her ba!" and said good-bye to her# $he setting of that s!ene !ould be varied as one !hose, Fanny ilmot refle!ted# * here had that pin fallen?- 0t might be 4avenna1 or =dinburgh, where she had "ept house for her brother# $he s!ene !ould be !hanged1 and the young man and the e%a!t manner of it all, but one thing was !onstant--her refusal, and her frown, and her anger with herself afterwards, and her argument, and her relief--yes, !ertainly her immense relief# $he very ne%t day, perhaps, she would get up at si%, put on her !loa", and wal" all the way from ,ensington to the river# She was so than"ful that she had not sa!rifi!ed her right to go and loo" at things when they are at their best--before people are up, that is to say she !ould have her brea"fast in bed if she li"ed# She had not sa!rifi!ed her independen!e# 3es, Fanny ilmot smiled, (ulia had not endangered her habits# $hey remained safe1 and her habits would have suffered if she had married# "$hey're ogres," she had said one evening, half laughing, when another pupil, a girl lately married, suddenly bethin"ing her that she would miss her husband, had rushed off in haste#

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"$hey're ogres," she had said, laughing grimly# )n ogre would have interfered perhaps with brea"fast in bed1 with wal"s at dawn down to the river# hat would have happened *but one !ould hardly !on!eive this- had she had !hildren? She too" astonishing pre!autions against !hills, fatigue, ri!h food, the wrong food, draughts, heated rooms, 5ourneys in the $ube# for she !ould never determine whi!h of these it was e%a!tly that brought on those terrible heada!hes that gave her life the semblan!e of a battlefield# She was always engaged in outwitting the enemy, until it seemed as if the pursuit had its interest1 !ould she have beaten the enemy finally she would have found life a little dull# )s it was, the tug-of-war was perpetual--on the one side the nightingale or the view whi!h she loved with passion--yes, for views and birds she felt nothing less than passion1 on the other the damp path or the horrid long drag up a steep hill whi!h would !ertainly ma"e her good for nothing ne%t day and bring on one of her heada!hes# hen, therefore, from time to time, she managed her for!es adroitly and brought off a visit to ;ampton Court the wee" the !ro!uses--those glossy bright flowers were her favourite--were at their best, it was a vi!tory# 0t was something that lasted1 something that mattered for ever# She strung the afternoon on the ne!"la!e of memorable days, whi!h was not too long for her to be able to re!all this one or that one1 this view, that !ity1 to finger it, to feel it, to savour, sighing, the 2uality that made it uni2ue# "0t was so beautiful last Friday," she said, "that 0 determined 0 must go there#" So she had gone off to aterloo on her great underta"ing?to visit ;ampton Court-alone# 7aturally, but perhaps foolishly, one pitied her for the thing she never as"ed pity for *indeed she was reti!ent habitually, spea"ing of her health only as a warrior might spea" of his foe---one pitied her for always doing everything alone# ;er brother was dead# ;er sister was asthmati!# She found the !limate of =dinburgh good for her# 0t was too blea" for (ulia# +erhaps, too, she found the asso!iations painful, for her brother, the famous ar!haeologist, had died there1 and she had loved her brother# She lived in a little house off the &rompton 4oad entirely alone# Fanny ilmot saw the pin1 she pi!"ed it up# She loo"ed at Miss Craye# as Miss Craye so lonely? 7o, Miss Craye was steadily, blissfully, if only for that moment, a happy woman# Fanny had surprised her in a moment of e!stasy# She sat there, half turned away from the piano, with her hands !lasped in her lap holding the !arnation upright, while behind her was the sharp s2uare of the window, un!urtained, purple in the evening, intensely purple after the brilliant ele!tri! lights whi!h burnt unshaded in the bare musi! room# (ulia Craye, sitting hun!hed and !ompa!t holding her flower, seemed to emerge out of the 8ondon night, seemed to fling it li"e a !loa" behind her, it seemed, in its bareness and intensity, the effluen!e of her spirit, something she had made whi!h surrounded her# Fanny stared# )ll seemed transparent, for a moment, to the ga@e of Fanny ilmot, as if loo"ing through Miss Craye, she saw the very fountain of her being spurting its pure silver drops# She saw ba!" and ba!" into the past behind her# She saw the green 4oman vases stood in their !ase1 heard the !horisters playing !ri!"et1 saw (ulia 2uietly des!end the !urving steps on to the lawn1 then saw her pour out tea beneath the !edar tree1 softly en!losed the old man's hand in hers1 saw her going round and about the !orridors of that an!ient Cathedral dwelling pla!e with towels in her hand to mar" them1 lamenting, as she went, the pettiness of daily life1 and slowly ageing, and putting away !lothes when summer !ame, be!ause at her age they were too bright to wear1 and tending her father's

si!"ness1 and !leaving her way ever more definitely as her will stiffened towards her solitary goal1 travelling frugally1 !ounting the !ost and measuring out of her tight shut purse the sum needed for this 5ourney or for that old mirror1 obstinately adhering, whatever people might say, in !hoosing her pleasures for herself# She saw (ulia---(ulia bla@ed# (ulia "indled# .ut of the night she burnt li"e a dead white star# (ulia opened her arms# (ulia "issed her on the lips# (ulia possessed it# "Slater's pins have no points," Miss Craye said, laughing 2ueerly and rela%ing her arms, as Fanny ilmot pinned the flower to her breast with trembling fingers#