“Sometimes, to relieve stress, he would soak his feet in the toilet, a practice that was not as soothing for his collegues.”

“He was discovered with his feet stuck to the ceiling in the bathroom with his head stuffed in the toilet...”

“He plants his feet stubbornly, adopting what he must think is an heroic post. He's just begging for a pigeon to fly by and relieve itself.”

“This was very bitter to Gerald, who had never known what boredom was, who had gone from activity to activity, never at a loss. Now, gradually, everything seemed to be stopping in him. He did not want any more to do the things that offered. Something dead within him just refused to respond to any suggestion. He cast over in his mind, what it would be possible to do, to save himself from this misery of nothingness, relieve the stress of this hollowness. And there were only three things left, that would rouse him, make him live. One was to drink or smoke hashish, the other was to be soothed by Birkin, and the third was women. And there was no-one for the moment to drink with. Nor was there a woman. And he knew Birkin was out. So there was nothing to do but to bear the stress of his own emptiness.”

“Who was there to soothe him as life’s rug was snatched from under his sleeping feet?”

“Relieve stress through hysterical screaming.”