She wished she had not stood up. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ” She turned herself to one side and propped her head in her hand. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme.
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