As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her <br />laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were <br />only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I <br />was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary <br />recovery, lost finally in the dark caverns of her <br />throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles. An <br />elderly waiter with trembling hands was hurriedly <br />spreading a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty <br />green iron table, saying: 'If the lady and gentleman <br />wish to take their tea in the garden, if the lady and <br />gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden ...' I <br />decided that if the shaking of her breasts could be <br />stopped, some of the fragments of the afternoon might <br />be collected, and I concentrated my attention with <br />careful subtlety to this end.<br /><br />Thomas Stearns Eliot<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hysteria-2/
