The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. . ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively.
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