[…] he raised slowly his rounded arms, stretched them gracefully backward and forward, moved his feet with precision and lightness, took a few small steps, made some battements and pirouettes, and disappeared like a butterfly.
And if we got through that, they′d come at us again in February or March. Even if we′d got through the parliamentary session, they′d keep coming at us.
For Watt's sense of chronology was strong, in a way, and his dislike of battology was very strong.
'Maybe he's a fruiter,' remarked Tracey in her infuriating accent. 'Now that would be a turn-up for the books, wouldn't it Mike? I have to say I've never warmed to the homosexual community. I'm not what you'd call a bender-befriender. Still, live and let live, I say.'
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