She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. ” She laughed softly to herself. She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping.
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