"You've got to clear out of this.

Come!" She rose; she stood before him holding out her hands to help him to get up and go.

She laughed again.

She laughed wide-mouthed, her head flung back, her face foreshortened, her white throat swelled and quivering--the abandoned figure of Low Comedy incarnate.

But that was not what he saw.
To him it was as if the dark, impenetrable world had suddenly unfolded, had blossomed and flowered in the rose of her mouth; as if all the roses of all the world went to make up the petals of that rose.