"No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. “Those things are not for me just at present. MANNING,” she had begun. This gloom was impossible. He hated horizons. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle. But most of all, I wanted to love. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands.
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