A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. 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. Another car followed, a rusty Cadillac sedan full of kids. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. ” “I am rebuked,” she declared. In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there.
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