I remember it now, as one remembers these things.

But then I passed it over.

I was too much moved myself to notice it more than subconsciously, as one notices things past which one is whirled.

And I was whirled past these things, in an ungovernable fury at the remembrance of what I had suffered, of what I had still to suffer.

I was speaking with intense rage, jerking out words, ideas, as floodwater jerks through a sluice the _debris_ of once ordered fields.
"You are," I said, "you _are_--you--you--dragging an ancient name through the dust--you ..." I forget what I said.