As he watched the boy’s ears, edged with fair down, he tried to imagine the degree of tedium and detestation he must arouse in David, and this distressed him. He saw himself from the outside – a blotchy complexion, a feu du rasoir rash, a shiny black jacket, stains on its sleeve cuffs – and caught his own falsely animated tone, the throat-clearing noises he made, and even that sound which could not reach David – the blundering but dutiful beat of his long-ailing heart.
