“What is the good of pretending?” she said. Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. The movie droned on, the sounds becoming manageable except for the frequent high-pitched screams of young girls when a poltergeist manifestation would leap out of a shadow. " "Swear it!" "I do. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment.
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