'
'One can't,' she cried. 'I DON'T want old things.'
'The truth is, we don't want things at all,' he replied. 'The thought
of a house and furniture of my own is hateful to me.'
This startled her for a moment. Then she replied:
'So it is to me. But one must live somewhere.'
'Not somewhere--anywhere,' he said. 'One should just live anywhere--not
have a definite place. I don't want a definite place. As soon as you
get a room, and it is COMPLETE, you want to run from it. Now my rooms
at the Mill are quite complete, I want them at the bottom of the sea.
It is a horrible tyranny of a fixed milieu, where each piece of
furniture is a commandment-stone.'
She clung to his arm as they walked away from the market.
'But what are we going to do?' she said. 'We must live somehow. And I
do want some beauty in my surroundings. I want a sort of natural
GRANDEUR even, SPLENDOUR.'
'You'll never get it in houses and furniture--or even clothes. Houses
and furniture and clothes, they are all terms of an old base world, a
detestable society of man.
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