It's a habit of mine to bring something to read when I travel. The travel time from my home to my brother's home is approximately an hour and a half by train. So today's companion was A. S. Byatt's Possession. One passage, deliciously indirect, made me laugh:
" He opened his locked case, putting away Randolph Ash's letters to his godchild, or anyway the stolen images, and drew out those other photographs of which he had a large and varied collection-- as far as it was possible to vary, in flesh or tone or angle or close detail, so essentially simple an activity, a preoccupation. He had his own ways of sublimation."