The mask was a thing on its own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness.
I ought to be chief, because I’m chapter chorister and head boy. I can sing C sharp.[said Jack with simple arrogance]
He found himself understanding the wearisomeness of this life, where every path was an improvisation and a considerable part of one’s waking life was spent watching one’s feet.
We’re strong – we hunt! If there’s a beast, we’ll hunt it down! We’ll close in and beat and beat and beat-!