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"
A
gra
-
amme
is
be
-
etter
.
.
.
"
she
began
.
The
Savage
pushed
her
away
with
such
force
that
she
staggered
and
fell
.
"
Go
,
"
he
shouted
,
standing
over
her
menacingly
,
"
get
out
of
my
sight
or
I
’
ll
kill
you
.
"
He
clenched
his
fists
.
Lenina
raised
her
arm
to
cover
her
face
.
"
No
,
please
don
’
t
,
John
.
.
.
"
"
Hurry
up
.
Quick
!
"
One
arm
still
raised
,
and
following
his
every
movement
with
a
terrified
eye
,
she
scrambled
to
her
feet
and
still
crouching
,
still
covering
her
head
,
made
a
dash
for
the
bathroom
.
The
noise
of
that
prodigious
slap
by
which
her
departure
was
accelerated
was
like
a
pistol
shot
.
"
Ow
!
"
Lenina
bounded
forward
.
Safely
locked
into
the
bathroom
,
she
had
leisure
to
take
stock
of
her
injuries
.
Standing
with
her
back
to
the
mirror
,
she
twisted
her
head
.
Looking
over
her
left
shoulder
she
could
see
the
imprint
of
an
open
hand
standing
out
distinct
and
crimson
on
the
pearly
flesh
.
Gingerly
she
rubbed
the
wounded
spot
.
Outside
,
in
the
other
room
,
the
Savage
was
striding
up
and
down
,
marching
,
marching
to
the
drums
and
music
of
magical
words
.
"
The
wren
goes
to
’
t
and
the
small
gilded
fly
does
lecher
in
my
sight
.
"
Maddeningly
they
rumbled
in
his
ears
.
"
The
fitchew
nor
the
soiled
horse
goes
to
’
t
with
a
more
riotous
appetite
.
Down
from
the
waist
they
are
Centaurs
,
though
women
all
above
.
But
to
the
girdle
do
the
gods
inherit
.
Beneath
is
all
the
fiend
’
s
.
There
’
s
hell
,
there
’
s
darkness
,
there
is
the
sulphurous
pit
,
burning
scalding
,
stench
,
consumption
;
fie
,
fie
,
fie
,
pain
,
pain
!
Give
me
an
ounce
of
civet
,
good
apothecary
,
to
sweeten
my
imagination
.
"
