He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. That turned her mind to the more generalized aspects of her perplexities again. “But your sister,” he said. She was struck by a change in his appearance. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. She put her mouth on him. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. “If you cannot listen to me now it must remain undelivered.
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