“Fine. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. 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. Michelle looked her up and down, liking the results of her efforts. ” “YOU know,” said Ann Veronica.
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