LADY. It's not grinding now.

STRANGER. Yes. Grinding ... grinding.

LADY. Listen. There's no hate here. Pity, at most.

STRANGER. Another thing. ... Why do people I meet cross themselves?

LADY. Only because they're used to praying in silence. (Pause.) You
had an unwelcome letter this morning?

STRANGER. Yes. The kind that makes your hair rise from the scalp,
so that you want to curse at fate. I'm owed money, but can't get
paid. Now the law's being set in motion against me by ... the
guardians of my children, because I've not paid alimony. No one has
ever been in such a dishonourable position. I'm blameless. I could
pay my way; I want to, but am prevented! Not my fault; yet my
shame! It's not in nature. The devil's got a hand in it.

LADY. Why?

STRANGER. Why? Why is one born into this world an ignoramus,
knowing nothing of the laws, customs and usage one inadvertently
breaks? And for which one's punished. Why does one grow into a
youth full of high ambition only to be driven into vile actions one
abhors? Why, why?

LADY (who has secretly been looking at the book: absent-mindedly).
There must be a reason, even if we don't know it.