Cora's dazed stare followed them to earth and returned to Bradly, still unable to visualize him as a pauper. Bradly, having done with pretences and illusions, now dispiritedly accepted the inevitable.
They were nearly all whalemen; chief mates, and second mates, and third mates, and sea carpenters, and sea coopers, and sea blacksmiths, and harpooneers, and ship keepers; a brown and brawny company, with bosky beards; an unshorn, shaggy set, all wearing monkey jackets for morning gowns.
[…] Amy smiled without bitterness, for she possessed a happy temper and hopeful spirit.
Another reason was the apparently inspired pairing of screenwriter Dennis Potter and director Nicolas Roeg, two dark poets of psychic subtexts and achronological memory flashes.
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