It'll be your turn to save mine next. But after a time I learned the ways of the parrakeets, and they would come down to me like doves in the stories. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. . She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier,” she said. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity.
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