" While Mr. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. I fought. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. To begin with, he struck her as being the most variable person she had ever encountered. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious.
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