“You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. 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. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor.
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