"Don't stir," replied Jack. ” Annabel rose and followed her sister from the room. . He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure because business was so bad. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger.
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