“Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. Let me have a word with him, and you may take all the money. “Okay. The modern parts of the book were inspired by my worldview of high school as pure, unadulterated Hell. He saw her, dripping with rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. We WERE thieves. But we get over it. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. It throws out a number of broad experimental generalizations, and then sets out to bring into harmony or relation with these an infinitely multifarious collection of phenomena.
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