His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known. Michelle was sounding alarm bells everywhere in Lucy’s brain, but Lucy felt the pull of a 188 greater inertia, the urge to stay put so strong that to deny it was to deny the existence of gravity. What was to happen now? She turned to Roding quickly.
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