There were two of them. The months that followed September spiraled downward. Then she went below. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. I want to tell every one. 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. “My charm of manner, I suppose. ” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book.
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