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All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. She felt his crotch through his jeans. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. ’ ‘Now then, missie,’ began the sergeant severely, ‘just you hand over that dagger. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. Wood fancied he recognised. ‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!.
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