It remained hard, nay, became harder and more deeply antagonistic to his surroundings, every moment.

He recognised it as a secret malady he suffered from: this strained, unacknowledged opposition to his surroundings, a hard core of irrational, exhausting withholding of himself.

Irritating, because he still WANTED to give himself.

A woman and whiskey, these were usually a remedy--and music.

But lately these had begun to fail him.