Paradise Lost, as Teskey observes, is a cento, a vast echo chamber of classical texts, all twisted into new shapes.

Apparently, I also removed my shirt as if performing a malcoordinated strip routine and then introduced bemused spectators to a dance move that was out of place when first revealed at university and was certainly not appropriate at a reasonably formal party surrounded by a wunch of bankers.

In fact, eighteenth-century British erotica has been the subject of unremitting attention for the last two decades.

The children peeped curiously into the attic room.