At last she shut the book sharply, lay back, and drew a deep breath, expressive of the wonder which always marks the transition from the imaginary world to the real world.

“to possess one single thing (it is Louis now) must waver, like the light in and…”

“Let us not take for granted that life exists more fully in what is commonly tho…”

“But how entirely I live in my imagination; how completely depend upon spurts of…”

“I fear I shall be a clinger to the outsides of words all my life.”