A fierce struggle ensued. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. “No, John, you won’t understand. " As Jack made no reply, the woman proceeded. " The Wastrel laughed. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. ’ ‘Indeed? Interesting. . Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again.
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