I don’t feel it. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. I’M shaken. She wormed her way past Sebastian, glanced at her mother’s blackened face, her obscenely naked body bulging with yellow and black buboes under the arms and in the groin that oozed stinking fluid. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt. Probably he has something to say and can't say it, or he writes well about nothing. He allowed his irons and clothes to be taken off without resistance.
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