even when it is raining and you are not indoors and in bed and with a book you can have happiness, which is of the languid sort when you are on a bus and dry and travelling unimpeded by traffic on a extremely long and pleasant route you have never travelled before and the bus near empty and the cold rain washing down wide windows in sheets and half pleased and half grateful for being dry and lightly drowsy and grateful too, for the warmth of arm against arm.