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🎮 She turned and looked at him then. She wondered why she had ever thought him ugly. It was on her tongue to ask him, as so often she had meant to do of late, what had been the cause of her mother’s illness—if illness it was: what it was that had happened to change both their lives. But always something had stopped her—something ever present, ever watchful, that seemed to shape itself out of the air, bending towards her with its finger on its lips.!

🏆 “You are young for a philosopher,” said Joan. “Do you really think she’ll get over it?” asked Madge. “Or is it one of those things one has to say?”!

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