But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. “Do I understand you then to refuse my offer?” he asked Anna. I kicked the living shit out of him. ‘That was one of my own clever stories. 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.
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