“Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. " "Won't one from me do as well?" interposed Mrs.
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