E. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. She is like some character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty years and just been excavated. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully.
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