Her thoughts took words for themselves. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. " CHAPTER XVIII. "I couldn't bear to see you in it. She was radiant. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. That is easy. It isn’t the same thing. “I don’t think you realize,” Ann Veronica began again, “that I am rather a defective human being.
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