St Mungo's Hospital, Dai Llewellyn Ward, June 1996
That had been a most refreshing little nap. And it was quite pleasant to lie back and think. But only because she now had a book to hand and could choose to read at any moment. When staring at the ceiling was the only option left, forced upon you by someone who took away the possibility of choice, simply because he could, it was a different matter altogether.
Perhaps she could read a few pages of Charity's contribution? The description of the Dame à la Licorne tapestry – Minerva wasn't in the mood for the hunting scenes. But the five senses … yes. She'd enjoy reading that. Or perhaps she'd just look at the illustrations.
There was Sight. Symbolised by a mirror. Well, one had to make clear that it was sight. But surely, the unicorn would have preferred looking at that enchanting garden – or better still, at his beloved Lady? And would he see that lion as a fellow-suitor? Then, from the unicorn's point of view, that lion would definitely want watching. But that was rather fanciful, of course. Charity would be shocked by such a profane explanation.
But the sight of your beloved was a joy, indeed.
Could that be an interpretation? That it took all five senses before the other became Mon Seul Désir? It was a thought worth pondering. What had it been like for her? Not that one specific case formed sufficient scholarly proof. But then, she didn't have to write an article. She could just enjoy herself. See whether she could make the allegory fit.
Sight, Hearing, Smell, Taste, and Touch.
Oh, yes, touch.
But one didn't start research at the end. One had to be methodical. No cutting corners. She'd examine the senses one by one.