Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated.
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