‘It was this detachment, even more than his facelessness and the white coiling hand, that made Mrs Whitaker linger …’. Can it be that a novel and an artist can get forgotten even though they write at least one novel that is, in the words of David Norris, ‘in particular a masterpiece’.
‘It was this detachment, even more than his facelessness and the white coiling hand, that made Mrs Whitaker linger … / Suddenly Mrs Whitaker caught her breath. The white hand, so strangely contrasted with such coarse clothes, stopped twisting the button and reached out towards her. But the man was not beckoning. He was holding … More ‘It was this detachment, even more than his facelessness and the white coiling hand, that made Mrs Whitaker linger …’. Can it be that a novel and an artist can get forgotten even though they write at least one novel that is, in the words of David Norris, ‘in particular a masterpiece’.









