She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. ” Michelle looked at her more inquisitively. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. Otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent. She ignored it until it repeated itself. ” It was as if she faced a darkness in which was something very beautiful and wonderful as yet unimagined. . " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere.
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