Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. “Lucy, I have to talk to you. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. You have misunderstood. . And every day's experience proves that I was right. Give me but leave to try.
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