The thought of them distressed her without subtracting at all from the oceans of happiness in which she swam. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. ‘Least of all, one who takes advantage of another’s misfortune. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. ‘I am entirely English. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat.
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