Over the Top ! 27
But my physical body was lifting me. It was the
same old, wild exhilaration that one gets from rising
from the ground on one’s good days. I found myself
in the middle of the floor without knowing how I had
got there. I, too, was walking on air. Lou turned,
her mouth a scarlet orb, as I have seen the sunset over
Belgium, over the crinkled line of shore, over the dim
blue mystic curve of sea and sky; with the thought
in my mind beating in tune with my excited heart.
We didn’t miss the arsenal this time. I was the arsenal
too. I had exploded. I was the slayer and the slain !
And there sailed Lou across the sky to meet me.
“‘O Thou outrider of the Sun, that spurrest the
bloody flanks of the wind! I adore Thee, Evoe !
I adore Thee, I A O!”
We came into each other’s arms with the inevitable-
ness of gravitation. We were the only two people in the
Universe—she and I. The only force that existed in
the Universe was the attraction between us. The
force with which we came together set us spinning.
We went up and down the floor of the club; but,
of course, it wasn’t the floor of the club, there wasn’t
the club, there wasn’t anything at all except a delirious
feeling that one was everything, and had to get on
with everything. One was the Universe eternally
whirling. There was no possibility of fatigue; one’s
energy was equal to one’s task.
““Q ‘Thou dancer with gilded nails, that un-
braidest the star hair of the night! 1 adore Thee,
Evoe! I adore Thee, I A O!”
Lou’s slim, lithe body lay in my arm. It sounds
absurd, but she reminded me of a light overcoat. Her
head hung back, the heavy coils of hair came loose.
All of a sudden the band stopped. For a second the
agony was indescribable. It seemed like annihilation.