She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. After the dance, they went to a party. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. If you forget your sex, jade, I must forget mine.
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