We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. He added, ‘Also others, but I don’t recall them. . ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. For a moment none of them stirred; then slowly Enschede turned away. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. ’ It took several frustrating moments, working at the protrusions of the carving down the side of the bookshelves, tugging at leaves, pushing at flowers. ‘You can’t go to England. I feel years younger, a man again.
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