Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. “Listen,” she said. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. I’m a female thing at bottom. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital.
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