She felt much better. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings.
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