Finally the cat extended a preparate paw for the kill, opening her mouth, and the insect, whose wings had never ceased to beat, suddenly and marvellously flew out, as might indeed the human soul from the jaws of death, flew up, up, up, soaring over the trees: and at that moment he saw them. They were standing on the porch; Yvonne’s arms were full of bougainvillea, which she was arranging in a cobalt ceramic vase, “—but suppose he’s absolutely adamant. Suppose he simply won’t go … careful, Hugh, it’s got spikes on it, and you have to look at everything carefully to be sure there’re no spiders.”
...more
