If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. The black clad students streamed slowly to their positions carrying their instruments like offerings to the pilgrimage. She was recalling the circumstances under which she had engaged herself to Manning, and trying to understand a curious development of the quality of this relationship. I did not know you spoke Kanaka," he broke off.
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