"When?"
"When you went to Desmond. Then, when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, something happened."
"What?"
"I don't know. I don't know what it is now; I only know what it does. It always happens--always--when you want it awfully. And when you're quiet and give yourself up to it."
"It'll happen again."
He listened, frowning a little, not quite at ease, not quite interested; puzzled, as if he had lost her trail; put off, as if something had come between him and her.
"You can make it happen to other people," she was saying; "so that when things get too awful they can bear them. I wanted it to happen to Dorothy when she was in prison, and it did. She said she was absolutely happy there; and that all sorts of queer things came to her. And, Nicky, they were the same queer things that came to me. It was like something getting through to her."
"I say--did you ever do it to me?"
"Only once, when you wanted it awfully."
"When? When?"