She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. She laughed a little contemptuously. All other things were without weight or consequence before the fact that this poor young man would have to depend upon her for his life. I can't invent; the thing won't come. Of you, I mean. Wonderful! The water, dripping from you, must have looked like pearls.
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