Just as he had arrived at the mouth of the drain, and Jack felt certain he must be discovered, a loud shout was raised from the further end of the field that the fugitive was caught. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. Or else he was indeed obsessed. Stanley considered. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. And Gosse had been still there, so Martha said, and not in prison. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie.
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