"All cannot be well, if this is true. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas. "We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared. I did not lay any traps for her. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. Between Canton and Hartford two giants had risen, invisible but menacing— Fear and Doubt. 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. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. “I don’t know how to prove myself to you, John. I hope that you did not permit her to feed?” “But I did! I did!” She sobbed. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly.
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