He does not fully understand it. But he can pinpoint when it began, this slight madness this possession. When, a little over two weeks ago, he peered over a hedge and found a woman sitting on a tree stump. He looks at the restaurant table, at the floor, how it seems to feed and feed itself
under all the furniture in the room. He feels for a moment the vastness of the city, the whole breathing breadth of it, and he feels as if he and this girl, this woman, are sitting together in its very centre, at the very eye of its storm, and he feels as if they might be the only people who are doing this, who have ever done this.
I do not understand the highlighted sentence (from Maggie O'Farrell's latest novel "THE HAND THAT FIRST HELD MINE"). Can anyone help me?
It could simply be an example of the 'slight madness'. It might have more meaning in the wider context of the book and whatever form this madness takes, and the image of the woman on the tree stump suggests it might, but that's guessing as I haven't read the book.