Indeed, she did not want to think of him as loving her. “Dear me!” he said. I shall be very sorry if I cannot have you for a friend. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. You know as well as I do that it was accident. "You know this is a pet project.
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