” She was able to go straight to her room without delay, and she at once locked the door with a little sigh of relief. ‘Not entirely English then. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual. God must love me, for he has guided me here. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. “You’re still,” he said, “in the educational years. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. You square the G.
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