Swelter is assailed by life-sapping loathing for Flay, who returns the compliment. Their battle is astounding for its intensity and outcome. Here a bursting simile for murderous hatred ready to pop.
‘… while Swelter, whose frustrated blood-lust was ripe as a persimmon… ‘
Source: Mervyn Peake, Titus Groan, introduction by Anthony Burgess (London: Vintage Books, 1998), p. 403
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