She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem. 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. ” “I MUST talk with you.
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