What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. She acted as her mother had taught her to. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. At the opening of the van doors and the emergence into the fresh air Ann Veronica’s doubt and depression gave place to the wildest exhilaration. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. A pity, en effet, that she dare not truly desire him to rescue her. Ireton will do no such thing," replied the head-turnkey.
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