“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I am going to take a liberty. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. “I can tell you are thinking about it. ” Part 6 Then, arising she knew not how, like a new-born appetite, came a craving in Ann Veronica for the sight and sound of beauty.
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