Her face was that of a boy gang-leader, smooth with the innocence of one who, by the same quirk as blinds a man to the mystery of whistling or riding a bicycle, has never mastered the art of affection or compassion or properly learned the moral dichotomy.

More from The Enemy in the Blanket (1958)

• ‘But you like her, don’t you?’ asked Howarth. ‘You like Mrs Connor?’ For himself, thought Howarth, he did not particularly like Mrs Connor. He desired Mrs Connor, however.
• Every grain of experience is food for the greedy growing soul of the artist.
• Howarth began to see that, however much it was against one’s will and convictions, sides had to be taken, the dreary corrupt world of politics had to be entered by the good and dispassionate, to protect and avenge the weak. But one always entered too late.
• If the world is to be improved it must be by the exercise of individual charity.
• If you reject family – which a mother holds together – as well as the ties of Church and State, is there anything left for you?
• I suppose the only real reason for traveling is to learn that all people are the same.