I could not love you else. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. “But your sister?” he asked. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. " He laughed and pushed back his chair. It was in her eyes—the big thing that comes but once.
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