It was the gratification of an immense necessity. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. It's fine with me if it's fine with Cathy, darlin’. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the subject. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd.
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