After two minutes the sharp pain had ebbed. He prised the clinging mass of the sea star away with the iron and put on his flipper again, wondering vaguely why he should have thought of the creature as ‘Dorah’. … During the leisurely ascent, watching his small air bubbles to make sure he did not rise faster than they did, it occurred to him that the memory stirred by the vacuum action of the sea urchin concerned a remarkable girl called Dorah he had once known for a while in Portsmouth.
(A Taste for Death, chapter 1)