"A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. "I'll find you out. I’m not ashamed—of the things I’m doing. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. Wood. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes.
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