I Love Evensong. There's Something Sad And

I Was So Astonished That I Could Think Of Nothing To Say, But Wondered Irrelevantly If I Was To Be Caught With A Teapot In My Hand On Every Dramatic Occasion.

Oh, This Coming Back To An Empty House,' Rupert Thought, When He Had Seen Her Safely Up To Her Door. People - Though Perhaps It Was Only Women - Seemed To Make So Much Of It. As If Life Itself Were Not As Empty As The House One Was Coming Back To.

She Had Always Been An Unashamed Reader Of Novels.

Of Course It's All Right For Librarians To Smell Of Drink.

My Thoughts Went Round And Round And It Occurred To Me That If I Ever Wrote A Novel It Would Be Of The 'stream Of Consciousness' Type And Deal With An Hour In The Life Of A Woman At The Sink.