"Sing again," Grace said. "Sing again," Grace said. But I would not sing again; I had made my effect—I own it quite, quite honestly—I could have shrieked with triumph. But I would not sing again; I had made my effect—I own it quite, quite honestly—I could have shrieked with triumph. So Grace sang. So Grace sang. She sang "Rose in the Bud"—and it was like the trickling after the pour had ceased. She sang "Rose in the Bud"—and it was like the trickling after the pour had ceased. I think they all felt it. I think they all felt it. They began to talk. They began to talk. Cheneston did not talk; he leant back against the black cushions and stared into the garden with a white face. Cheneston did not talk; he leant back against the black cushions and stared into the garden with a white face. IV IV I do love life. I do love life. It's a perfectly priceless possession, sometimes I'm quite sorry to go to sleep and forget what has happened and what is going to happen. I suppose I am childish. It's a perfectly priceless possession, sometimes I'm quite sorry to go to sleep and forget what has happened and what is going to happen. I suppose I am childish.
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