8. Norris says she's dying. Part 5 In the beginning of December Ann Veronica began to speculate privately upon the procedure of pawning. " "It's no use going to bed," answered Rachel. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know.
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