Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. Creative work appeals to me wonderfully. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then. ” Anna laughed softly. ’ ‘I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ Gerald said decidedly, a frown creasing his brow. “Nothing.
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