"Stop thief!" roared Jonathan. The world had not passed by but had gone around it in a tremendous half-circle. Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. There's our young friend upstairs. Surely it was a dream. 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.
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