Michael Cunningham: The Hours

14 November 2019

“I’m sorry”, Louis says.
“It’s all right. For god’s sake, look at all that’s happened”
“I feel like such an asshole” He stands and walks to the French doors (seven steps). Through his tears he can see the moss in the low stone troughs, the bronze platter of clear water on which floats a single white feather. He can’t tell why he’sd crying. He’s back in New York. He seems to be crying over this odd garden, Richard’s illness (why was Louis spared?), this room with Clarissa in it, everything. He seems to be crying over a Hunter who only resembles the actual one. This other Hunter has a fierce and tragic grandeur, true intelligence, a modest turn of mind. Louis weeps for him.
Clarisa follows. “It’s all right”, she says again.

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