Now, as then, he stood listlessly in his place, seemingly a tranquil watcher of the scene before him.
The next day brought death and judgement, stirring his soul slowly from its listless despair.
Yes, his mother was hostile to the idea, as he had read from her listless silence.
His soul was fattening and congealing into a gross grease, plunging ever deeper in its dull fear into a sombre threatening dusk while the body that was his stood, listless and dishonoured, gazing out of darkened eyes, helpless, perturbed, and human for a bovine god to stare upon.
His mind emptied of theory and courage, lapsed back into a listless peace.
Did that explain his friend’s listless silence, his harsh comments, the sudden intrusions of rude speech with which he had shattered so often Stephen’s ardent wayward confessions?
But the nightshade of his friend’s listlessness seemed to be diffusing in the air around him a tenuous and deadly exhalation and He found himself glancing from one casual word to another on his right or left in stolid wonder that they had been so silently emptied of instantaneous sense until every mean shop legend bound his mind like the words of a spell and his soul shrivelled up sighing with age as he walked on in a lane among heaps of dead language.