From Keighley onwards we had obviously returned to civilisation, for the surrounding country was now studded with the sodium street lights of suburbia and a thickening industrial haze was blotting out the moon.

To preface much concerning these little after-pieces of Poetry, I hold needlesse, having spoke my mind so fully before.

For the price of a postage stamp, however, and the effort of a letter to our Member of Parliament, we may yet at this eleventh hour make a gesture for the defence of the foetus and prevent the introduction of Herodism and abortions of convenience into British medicine.

What she was experiencing was an absence of sounds in general, not my own peculiar distinction of noises no longer heard: the screeching of pulley-wheels as rainyday washings rose to beflag the ceiling; the thump of doors closing […]