Distracted

The trouble is, I get distracted.  I was looking at the backside (pardon me) of a nice Bovril advert and was captivated by the following short story excerpt:

 

"And he was aware, oh! aware enough now; for all at once he held her away from him at arms-length and drew a deep breath.  He stared at the beautiful white thing.  An arm?  He had never dreamed that an arm could be so lovely.  Her views? Her emancipation? Her war-service? He laughed aloud.   What did such things matter - now?  Doubts? Questions? Worship of women or felling them with the nearest stone? It seemed to him that all was one. By jove, she was his! .....

 

.....'Oh, Pearce!' she breathed, lifting eyes in which now were neither fear nor other need, but only the readiness."

 

Goodness.