Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. ” “Of course you can. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. Then the incredible happened. It's almost incredible. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness.
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