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