"Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. ” She laughed. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. "You can generally understand that language. 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.
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