Read it through once

To McClintock that jingling jumble of fine words meant something, no doubt, or seemed to mean something; but it is useless for us to try to divine what it was. Ambulinia comes—we don’t know whence nor why; she mysteriously intimates—we don’t know what; and then she goes echoing away—we don’t know whither; and down comes the curtain. McClintock’s art is subtle; McClintock’s art is deep.