There are years in front of me before I shall be anything else.

I couldn't ask you to share them--or I should have done so before now." In her mind ran the thought: what queer unimportant things men think about! The early years! Wouldn't their difficulties, their sorrows be the real savour of life and make it worth remembrance, worth treasuring?
But men had the right of speech.

Not again would she forget that.

She bowed her head and he blundered on.
"For you there'll be a better destiny.

There's that great house in the Park with its burnt walls.