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world; everybody else buried; themselves two blissful survivors;
with everything to squander as they would。 At first; he could
not get rid of a culpable sense of licence on his part。 Wasn't
there some duty outside; calling him and he did not e?
It was all very well at night; when the doors were locked and
the darkness drawn round the two of them。 Then they were the
only inhabitants of the visible earth; the rest were under the
flood。 And being alone in the world; they were a law unto
themselves; they could enjoy and squander and waste like
conscienceless gods。
But in the morning; as the carts clanked by; and children
shouted down the lane; as the hucksters came calling their
wares; and the church clock struck eleven; and he and she had
not got up yet; even to breakfast; he could not help feeling
guilty; as if he were mitting a breach of the
law……ashamed that he was not up and doing。
〃Doing what?〃 she asked。 〃What is there to do? You will only
lounge about。〃
Still; even lounging about was respectable。 One was at least
in connection with the world; then。 Whereas now; lying so still
and peacefully; while the daylight came obscurely through the
drawn blind; one was severed from the world; one shut oneself
off in tacit denial of the world。 And he was troubled。
But it was so sweet and satisfying lying there talking