I don’t want to stop your singing. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. She held out the foil. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. ” She shook her head. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. At breakfast both of them played their parts skillfully. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. It simply doesn’t count. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone.
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