О дивный новый мир

           HetriedtothinkofpoorLinda,breathlessanddumb,withherclutchinghandsandtheunutterableterrorinhereyes.PoorLindawhomhehadsworntoremember.ButitwasstillthepresenceofLeninathathauntedhim.Leninawhomhehadpromisedtoforget.Eventhroughthestabandstingofthejuniperneedles,hiswincingfleshwasawareofher,unescapablyreal."Sweet,sweet...Andifyouwantedmetoo,whydidn’tyou..."

           Thewhipwashangingonanailbythedoor,readytohandagainstthearrivalofreporters.InafrenzytheSavageranbacktothehouse,seizedit,whirledit.Theknottedcordsbitintohisflesh.

           "Strumpet!Strumpet!"heshoutedateveryblowasthoughitwereLenina(andhowfrantically,withoutknowingit,hewisheditwere),white,warm,scented,infamousLeninathathewasdoggingthus."Strumpet!"Andthen,inavoiceofdespair,"Oh,Linda,forgiveme.Forgiveme,God.I’mbad.I’mwicked.I’m...No,no,youstrumpet,youstrumpet!"

           Fromhiscarefullyconstructedhideinthewoodthreehundredmetresaway,DarwinBonaparte,theFeelyCorporation’smostexpertbiggamephotographerhadwatchedthewholeproceedings.Patienceandskillhadbeenrewarded.Hehadspentthreedayssittinginsidetheboleofanartificialoaktree,threenightscrawlingonhisbellythroughtheheather,hidingmicrophonesingorsebushes,buryingwiresinthesoftgreysand.Seventy-twohoursofprofounddiscomfort.