. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. Sebastian taught Lucy how to read and write in all the languages, two skills that she would find indispensable for dealing with the boredom over the centuries. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters. . . Try something. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. I've always been more or less music-mad.
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