Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. She led him up the long hall solemnly.
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