"Why not what?"

"Take me, then?"

"Well," she said vaguely, "I'm too young."

"I'd wait."

"'Twouldn't help any. I want so much, Tom . . . you couldn't give me
all I want."

He said, "What is it I couldn't give you?"

"I don't know, Tom . . . I want what other people have . . .
experiences . . ."

At his bitter laugh, she was filled with pity for herself. "Is it so
funny?" she asked. "I don't care."

"Whatever's got into you, Ann?"

"I don't know there's anything got into me beyond I don't want to grow
old--and dry. . . ."

"I don't see as you can help it any."

But Anna was tipsy with youth: she swore she'd be dead before she was
old.

"Hush, Ann."