” “My God!” said Teddy, more impressively than ever. She shuddered. Very good. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. . . He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. He reached over and took her hand. “Bother it all!” she swore. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands.
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