THE GOLDEN AGE
The fly and its contents had finally disappeared through the gate, the rumble of its wheels had died away. Yet no flag floated defiantly in the sun, no cannons proclaimed the passing of a dynasty. From out the frosted cake of our existence Fate had cut an irreplaceable segment: turn which way we would, the void was present. We sneaked off in different directions, mutually undesirous of company; and it seemed borne in upon me that I ought to go and dig my garden right over, from end to end. It didn't actually want digging; on the other hand no amount of digging could affect it, for good or for evil; so I worked steadily, strenuously, under the hot sun, stifling thought in action. At the end of an hour or so, I was joined by Edward.
'I've been chopping up wood,' he explained, in a guilty sort of way, though nobody had called on him to account for his doings.
'What for?' I inquired stupidly. 'There's piles and piles of it chopped up already.'
'I know,' said Edward, 'but there's no harm in having a bit over. You never can tell what
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