6. I don’t want to hear you. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. 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. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her.
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