John was looking at his own loose clasped hands and smiling. "Yes," he
said, "yes. Yes." It was as if he had said, "This will go on. Nothing
more than this can ever happen. But as long as we live it will go on."

She had a sense almost of relief.

"Charlotte--"

"John--"

"You asked me why I came here. You must have known why."

"I didn't. I don't."

"Can't you think?"

"No, John. I've left off thinking. _My_ thinking's never any use."

"If you _did_ think you'd know it was you."

"_Me_?"

"If it wasn't you just at first it was your face. There are faces that do
things to you, that hurt you when they're not there. Faces of people you
don't know in the least. You see them once and they never let you alone
till you've seen them again. They draw you after them, back and back.
You'd commit any sin just to see them again once....

"... You've got that sort of face. When I saw you the first time--Do
you remember? You came towards me over the field. You stopped and