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Simon rose to his feet and fell to pacing the room.

“One thing’s clear—a thousand’s the rock-bottom figure. I must make up my mind to that. Under a thousand a year it can’t be done. It could be, of course. We shouldn’t starve on five hundred. But ... No, a thousand’s the lowest possible. With a thousand I could temper the wind. Unless Grey Ruby comes up and unless I can get thirty-threes ...

“What’s the alternative? The alternative’s plain hell—for me, any way. I suppose I can plough through, but face it I can’t. I’ve tried and I can’t—can’t pretend to ... if she was in love with Persimmon, if she was going to be happy—happier than with me—well, I could stomach that. As it is ... I don’t know why I didn’t see it that night at Breathless. I came pretty near, too. I said we’d defied Nature. But for some fool’s reason I assumed the adhesions could be torn. That that was further defiance I never saw. I suppose I was exalted, drunk with a sort of heroism. That’s all right to die on, because you’re dead before it wears off. You can take a life-sentence with a laugh: but you don’t laugh much when you’re in prison, and after the first month....