"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. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. And to wish not is useless, because you have told me from when I was a little girl. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time.
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