I knew where my undershirts would be and it didn't take me long to find them with myhands. I pulled one out and was putting it on while I walked back to the
between the book-closet and the bathroom, one arm through one armhole, half out of the
shirtthe neck of which I held open with my hands. I looked at Belle. "Come again, Belle?" Iasked.Belle said again the denunciatory words.I got my head through the other armhole, got into my shirt. I walked on to the
.Ididn't know how tired I was until I fell back on the lounging chair.Belle picked up the footstool, brought it near my chair and sat down. "The least thingthey could have done is to tell us first about it".I felt very tired and shut my eyes and didn't say anything."Don't you think they owed it to us?" Belle asked. "Out of regards for our feelingsshouldn't they have asked us how we feel about a fence?"The piano music threaded through the words like a leitmotif. "How is that again, Belle?"I asked."They have no regard for us", Belle said. "They don't care what we think. They don'tthink we feel. As far as they are concerned we are not human".The piano came jubilantly threading through the words."Is that right, Belle?" I asked."Don't you think they should have at least gone to us and said: Look here, you! We are putting up this boundary, see? You keep to your side of these markers and we will keepto ours, understand?" Belle said."Do you really think that?" I asked."Yes I do", Belle said distinctly. "Don't you?""I don't know", I said. "I haven't thought about it"."Well then", Belle said, "think about it. You can start thinking about it now".I wondered why the words came ringing clear to me. Then I felt and sensed that the pianohad been closed. Suddenly the night was silent. Suddenly the night was still.