Her aunt went off at a tangent. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. Sheppard, rushing from the adjoining room. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. "Water!" he gasped. In fact he was thinking of other things.
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