ran through her like the premonitory ripple on smooth water before the coming of the wind. She turned about on him and jumped to her feet. "Sorry--you're sorry? YOU'RE sorry? Why, what earthly difference will it make to YOU?" She drew back a few steps and lifted her slender arms from her sides. "Look at me--see how I look--how I'm going to look! YOU won't hate yourself more and more every morning when you get up and see yourself in the glass! YOUR life's going on just as usual! But what's mine going to be for months and months? And just as I'd been to all this bother--fagging myself to death about all these things--" her tragic gesture swept the disordered room--"just as I thought I was going home to enjoy myself, and look nice, and see people again, and have a little pleasure after all our worries--" She dropped back on the sofa with another burst of tears. "For all the good this rubbish will do me now! I loathe the very sight of it!" she sobbed with her face in her hands. XIV It was one of the distinctions of Mr. Claud Walsingham Popple
