‘You do not dare look in my clothes. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. She, however, had no idea of doing anything of the sort.
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