She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. 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. And every day's experience proves that I was right. ” “Well?” “Lunch! I am hungry—tragically hungry.
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