She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. She crushed the letter in her hand. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. ‘The more I hear about this Leonardo,’ Lucy said severely, ‘the more I want to meet your Melusine. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience.
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