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. ‘The place was full of barbers and military men. I have given up painting. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. ” “It was a mistake,” she faltered. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving.
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