Under The Volcano - pg. 215

Nevertheless the desire remained - like an echo of Yvonne's own - to find her, to find her now, to reverse their doom, it was a desire amounting almost to a resolution ... Raise your head, Geoffrey Firmin, breathe your prayer of thankfulness, act before it is too late. But the weight of a great hand seemed to be passing his head down. The desire passed. At the same time, as though a cloud had come over the sun, the aspect the roller skates, the cheerful if ironic music, the cries of the little children on their goose-necked steeds, the procession of queer poctures - all this had suddenly become transcendentally awful and tragic, distant, transmuted, as it were some final impression on the senses of what the earth was like, carried over into an obscure region of death, a gathering thunder of immedicable sorrow; the Consul needed a drink ...