a room with a heelers

Afternoon sunlight through the great bay windows in the front room at the old chateau.
I recline in an armchair concentrating furiously on one of the most celebrated novels of English literature.
A Passage To India.
It is ponderous and boring but I am nothing if not persistent. You never know when these things may come in useful.
The motto of the work seems to be: "Don't go into caves with Hindus unless you know them really well." How very odd. Maybe EM Forster had negative experiences in this regard himself. Personally I'd be willing to take a chance.
Anyway, the way ould EM writes, it's impossible even after 200 pages, to tell whether there's any sexing going on or not.
Across from me sits the Mammy.
She is reading a book called Citizen Lord. The book was presented to her with the strongest recommendations by Maisie Baines a neighbour.
The Mammy feels duty bound to read it, for Maisie will be asking questions.
It is an historical novel, based on truth, about a rebel called Lord Edward Fitzgerald who inspired one of Ireland's less successful risings against British rule.
"Are you enjoying it Lil?" I enquire during a lull in the possible sex scenes in A Passage To India.
The aged P shoots me a wild and staring look.
"I wish Lord Edward Fitzgerald would just hurry up and die," sez she fervently.