He looked as if he were anxiously balancing a large handful of tact, without quite knowing where to put it down.

A young man sat down beside him on the divan and, without any kind of preliminary, said, ‘Is it a queer book?’
‘No,’ said Laurie.
‘Oh,’ said the young man, on a note of utter deflation. He got up and went away.

I stretched out my hand to Poseidon, but he sent no sign. He was away perhaps, shaking the earth somewhere. All about us I felt another power, dark, past man's thoughts, giver of desolation or of joy, she who can cherish or cast away but abides no question.