The wheelbarrow, the lawnmower,
the sound of poplar trees, leaves whitening
before rain, rooks cawing, brooms knocking, dresses
rustling -- all these were so coloured and distinguished
in his mind that he had already his
private code, his secret language, though he
appeared the image of stark and uncompromising
severity, with his high forehead and his fierce
blue eyes, impeccably candid and pure,