Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the room. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. Ann Veronica wiped a scalpel, put a card over a watch-glass containing thin shreds of embryonic guinea-pig swimming in mauve stain, and dismantled her microscope.
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