A deep voice, touched with scholarship and perhaps menace, speaks in the garden. It seems to be answered, the sweeping tones of wind against glass rising and falling in strange chords. The voice speaks again, and more long, smooth notes crescendo from the garden then fade. This continues, as if the voice were reading verses and the glass garden supplying background music. The glass tinkles and moans, providing the words of the speaker with gravitas and mystery.
