“I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs.
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