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. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucy asked. . “My wife refused absolutely to have anything more to do with me. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. There is the election——” He laughed derisively.
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