So she said: “I won’t come home. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. 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. The two sisters were very fond of one another, I believe. I wanted something alive.
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