“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. He filled his pipe slowly. ” He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him. “I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. . Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. "Go and take your plunge while I attend to breakfast.
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