Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. He could not tell whether she was English or American. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. For the young, immortality must seem promising, even wonderful! The grass is always greener on the other side. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch.
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