Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. . Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. Goodbye.
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