Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. ” She became aware of her aunt, through the panes of the greenhouse, advancing with an air of serene unconsciousness from among the raspberry canes. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. I always told you some accident would happen. Her little white hand stole across the table. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. It is the only way.
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