” He whispered to himself as her eyes bulged, arms flying furiously. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. There was a girlfriend who was mentally ill. Her eyes flashed. She taught him how to sail a proa, how to hack open a milk-coconut, how to relish bamboo sprouts. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon.
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