” She paused again. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend. “Oh. ” “And you have sent him about his business. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say.
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