She stood before the mirror, hardly daring to breathe.
"Oh God," Julian whispered. He stood in a corner of the room, and his eyes were narrowed and his hands were gripped together. "I knew I was a genius. But this—this is something else! What have I done? Statues turned to living beauty. What in the name of God is this?"
"I'm beautiful," she said.
"Yes, yes," he said thickly. "Yes—"
"As beautiful as Gloria."
"Whoever she is, yes, yes—"
"He will love me."
"I love you, my dear, I love you," he whispered again and again.
A great calm came over her. A great calm and a great chill. She felt uneasy because she felt so wonderful, too wonderful, too uneasy, as if she might feel too deeply and something inside would break.