Chapter 2 Section 1

Stephen turned up the collar of his coat as he walked briskly along the platform.A light fog in the sky enveloped the entire station.Huge locomotives hissed imperiously, spewing clouds of steam into the cold, damp air.Everything is dirty and covered in foul smoke. Stephen looked at everything in front of him with disgust. What a disgusting country, what a disgusting city. His first excitement about London, which had first been aroused by the shops and restaurants and the fashionable and attractively dressed girls, had worn off.Now he thought only of the city as a gleaming fake diamond on a grimy pedestal.

If he were in South Africa now... he felt a sudden pang of homesickness at the thought.Sunshine—blue sky—flower garden—fresh blue flowers—blue jasmine blooming on the fence—purple morning glories crawling over every country cottage. And here—the dust, the dirt, and the endless, endless stream of people—walking, rushing, pushing and fucking, like a colony of busy ants trying to rush to their nests, for a moment he Thinking: "If I don't come..." Then, when he remembered the purpose of his trip, his mouth was drawn into a straight line of determination.No, heck, he's got to keep going! He's been planning this for years.He had always intended to do this—to do what he was going to do.

Yes, he must keep going! That momentary hesitation, that sudden question to himself: "Why do you want to do this? Is it worth it? Why do you have to hold on to the past? Why can't you forget everything?" Simply because of weakness.He wasn't a kid anymore--letting the whim go to and fro for no reason.He is already a man of forty years old, full of confidence and firm determination, he must continue to achieve the purpose of this trip to England.He boarded the train and walked down the aisle looking for a seat.He had just dismissed a porter, and he took a rawhide box and went from car to car, the car was full.There are three more days until Christmas.Stephen Farr looked at the crowded carriages in disgust, people! Endless, countless people! Think, some of them babbling and fussing; others bloated, middle-aged men whining, more like pigs.Even those slender girls with long round faces and bright red lips seemed to be carved out of a mold, looking very uncomfortable. Thinking of this, a desire suddenly rose in his heart, longing for the South African plateau Go to the vast grassland without roots, where the sun is hot and desolate...

At this moment, for an instant, he held his breath and looked into a carriage. That girl was completely different, with jet-black hair, delicate cream-colored skin--eyes as deep and black as the night, the kind of melancholy and proud eyes that are unique to southern Europeans... This girl on the train should never appear here Among the dull, hideous-looking people—surely mistaken, she should never have come to this gloomy Midlands.She should be leaning on a balcony with a rose in her mouth, a black band adorning her haughty brow, and the air should smell of dust, heat, and blood—the smell of a bullring ... She really should appear in those gorgeous and splendid places, instead of being squeezed into a corner of this third-class carriage.

He is an observant person.He didn't ignore her shabby little black coat and blouse, and the poor quality knitted gloves, and the flimsy shoes and provocative fiery red handbag, but he still thought she was gorgeous.She was indeed brilliant, wonderful, and exotic... What the hell is she doing here? What is she doing here in this cold country under the fog and among these busy, working ants? He thought: I must know who she is and what she is doing here... I must... …