A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. \"Yes, uh, no. "Your master wants a few table-spoons, child," said Mrs. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Public school.
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