The nurturer is about to perform the demanding task of holding the bottle-tree. This means that the cor anglais cannot be attempted, and will have to wait till later.
Half-awake and unbalanced by fear, the creditor plunged to an expiration in the dark green slurry. But he lives on in standing for the idea of a deadening, the right royal deadening felt in the arms of the nurturer as she continues to hold the bottle-tree, catalysing the situation of going-off-one’s-rocker for the nurturer.
As she stands she will hear the wind through the various forms of ivy, carrying the deliberate repetition of explanations for holding the bottle-tree. The wind also provides further consolation in the form of stories of how the will o’ th’ wisp, having accepted the ribbon, hawked himself out on the road, and at the end of the road fell, drowning in a sea of spit, or perhaps spite – the nurturer, remaining true to her purpose, will not be able to quite distinguish.