yet even this did not yet trouble me very much . the thought that , whatever my reception , I would see Honor again was , in the frenzy of need and desire which had now come upon me , enough . I was perhaps moreover a little the dupe of that illusion of lovers that the beloved object must , somehow , respond , that an extremity of love not only merits but compels some return . I expected nothing very much , I certainly expected nothing precise , but the future was sufficiently open , sufficiently obscure , to receive the now so fierce onward rush of my purpose . I had to see her and that was all . what had more occupied my mind , as the train drew near to Cambridge , was wonderment at the nature and genesis of this love . when had I begun , unbeknown to myself , to love Honor Klein ? was it when I threw her to the cellar floor ? or when I saw her cut the napkins in two with the Samurai sword ? or at some earlier time , perhaps at that strange moment when I had seen her dusty , booted and spurred , confront the golden potentates who were my oppressors ? or even , most prophetically , when I had glimpsed the curving seam of her stocking in the flaring orange lights at Hyde Park Corner ? it was hard to say , and the harder because of the peculiar nature of this love . when I thought how peculiar it was it struck me as marvellous that I had nevertheless such a deep certainty that it was love . I seemed to have passed from dislike to love without experiencing any intermediate stage . there had been no moment when I reassessed her character , noticed new qualities , or passed less harsh judgements on the old ones : which seemed to imply that I now loved her for the same things for which I had previously disliked her heartily ; if indeed I had ever disliked her . none of this , on the other hand , made me doubt that now I loved her . yet it was in truth a monstrous love such as I had never experienced before , a love out of such depths of self as monsters live in . a love devoid of tenderness and humour , a love practically devoid of personality . it was strange too how little this passion which involved , so it seemed , a subjection of my whole being had to do in any simple or comprehensible sense with the flesh . it had to do with it , as my blood at every moment told me , but so darkly . I preserved the illusion of never having touched her . I had knocked her down but I had never held her hand ; and at the idea of holding her hand I practically felt faint . how very different was this from my old love for Antonia , so warm and radiant with golden human dignity , and from my love for Georgie , so tender and sensuous and gay . yet , too , how flimsy these other attachments seemed by comparison . the power that held me now was like nothing I had ever known : and the image returned to me of the terrible figure of Love as pictured by Dante . el m&apos;ha percosso in terra e stammi sopra . it occurred to me later as remarkable and somehow splendid that one thing which I never envisaged in these early moments was that my condition was in any way bogus or unreal . wherever it might lead , it was sufficiently what it seemed and had utterly to do with me : I would not , I could not , attempt to disown it or explain it away . if it was grotesque it was a grotesqueness which was of my own substance and to which , beyond any area of possible explanation , I laid an absolute claim . I had no idea what I would do when I saw Honor . it seemed quite likely that I would simply collapse speechless at her feet . nothing of this mattered . I was doing what I had to do and my actions were , with a richness , my own . I glided , motley and all , into the great checkered picture of King &apos;s Parade . beyond the slim street lamps the great crested form of King &apos;s chapel rose towards the moon , its pinnacles touched to a pallid blue against the starry distance beyond . the moon-shadow of the Senate House lay with a thicker obscurity across the grass until dispelled by the lamplight . the majesty , the familiarity , of these buildings seemed to add solemnity to my rite , as when old patriarchs come to grace a marriage . I felt by now extremely sick again and practically suffocated with excitement and with something which I supposed must be desire . I turned into the street where Honor Klein lived . I checked the numbers and could see ahead the house which must be hers . there was a single light on upstairs . the sight of that light made my heart increase its pace so hideously that I had to slow down and then to stop and hold on to a lamp-post while I tried to breathe evenly and quietly . I wondered if I had better wait a while and attempt , not to calm myself which was impossible , but simply to organize my breathing so as to be sure not to swoon . I stood for a few minutes and breathed steadily . I decided that I must wait no longer in case Honor should take it into her head to go to bed . I knew she could hardly be in bed at this hour , and pictured the upstairs room as a study . then I pictured her there sitting at a desk surrounded by books . then I pictured myself beside her . I advanced to the door and leaned against the wall . there was a single bell . I had not until that moment envisaged the possibility that she might have lodgers . in any case there was only one bell and I pressed it . I heard no sound within and after a moment I pressed the bell again . still no sound . I stepped back and looked up at the lit curtained window . I returned to the door and pushed it gently , but it was locked . I peered through the letter box . the hall was in darkness and there was no sound of approaching feet . I held the letter box open and pressed the bell again . I decided that the bell must be out of order and I wondered what to do next . I might either call out , or bang on the door , or throw stones at the window . I stood meditating on these various courses for a little while , and they all seemed insuperably difficult . I was uncertain whether I could control my voice sufficiently to produce the right sort of cry , and the other methods were too brusque . in any case I did not relish a head thrust from a window , a confused encounter at a street doorway . what I really wanted was to slink quietly into some room and find myself at once in Honor &apos;s presence . it then occurred to me that just this was precisely what I might be able to manage . I noticed a little gate at the side of the house which doubtless led into the garden . I tried it and it was open . I passed down a narrow passageway of mossy bricks which divided the houses and found myself in a small garden . I stepped back a little . above the black shape of a drooping tree the high moon revealed the back of the house , which was in darkness . french windows of a lower room gave on to the garden . I tiptoed back across the grass and put my hand against the windows . here I had to pause again to subdue a wave of sheer panic . my breathing , even my heart-beat , must I felt already be audible through the house like the panting of an engine . I tried the doors , got my finger into a crack and pushed them sharply away from me . they gave ; I was not sure whether they were unlatched anyway or whether my violent push had broken some weak fastening . I opened them wide with both hands . a dark room gaped before me , very faintly illuminated by the remains of an open fire . by now I scarcely knew what I was doing . my movements took on the quality of a dream . things melted before me . I crossed the room and opened a door whose white surface I saw glimmering in the darkness . I came out into the hall . a little light from the street lamp in front , coming through the open door of one of the front rooms , showed me the stairs . I began to mount the stairs , leaning hard on the banisters and stepping softly . once on the upper landing I could see the line of light under the door of Honor &apos;s room . I hesitated only a moment . I advanced to the door and knocked . after so much breathless silence the sound of the knock seemed thunderous . I let it die away and then as there was no reply to it I opened the door . for a moment the light dazzled me . I saw opposite to me a large double divan bed . the room was brightly lit . sitting up in this bed and staring straight at me was Honor . she was sitting sideways with the sheet over her legs . upwards she was as tawny and as naked as a ship &apos;s figurehead . I took in her pointed breasts , her black shaggy head of hair , her face stiff and expressionless as carved wood . she was not alone . beside the bed a naked man was hastily engaged in pulling on a dressing-gown . it was immediately and indubitably apparent that I had interrupted a scene of lovers . the man was Palmer . I closed the door and walked back down the stairs . twenty . I turned a light on in the hall , finding the switch instinctively , and went back into the room through which I had come . I turned the switch here and various lamps came on . I vaguely took in a white book-lined room with chintz armchairs . I went over and closed the french windows which were hanging ajar . it appeared that I had broken the fastening after all . I pulled the curtains which were also chintz . I turned back towards the fireplace . on a low table before it stood a tray with two glasses , a decanter of whisky , and a jug of water . I poured out some whisky , spilling a good deal of it on the table . I drank it . I poured out some more , poked up the fire a bit , and waited . ever since the moment near Waterloo Bridge when I had come to consciousness of my condition , I had felt like a man running towards a curtain . now that I had so suddenly and with such exceedingly unexpected results passed through it I felt dazed and in great pain but also curiously steady . I had entered the house like a thief . I stood in it now like a conquering general . they would come , they would have to come , to attend upon me . I felt this steadiness , this setting as it were of my feet sturdily apart ; yet with it I was in a confusion amounting to agony . I had so rapaciously desired and so obtusely expected to find Honor alone . the simple fact of her not being alone was a wrench almost separately felt , even apart from the nightmarish significance of who her companion was . from this there shivered through me a violence of amazement not distinguishable from horror ; and I felt as a physical pain the shock of what I had done to them . how nai&quot;vely had I imagined that Honor must be free ; I had even , it now occurred to me , imagined that she must be a virgin : that I would be the first person to discover her , that I would be her conqueror and her awakener . caught in the coils of such stupidity I could not yet even begin to touch with my imagination the notion that she should have had her brother as a lover . 