"Nothing can be right ever."
"Never?"
"Never."
"Ah, you've not told me all the story then?"
"Of course not. I never shall. I never can."
For a few steps they walked on in silence.
"Do tell me your—your story," he faltered. "Tell me what you can—what you'd like to."
"My story? My stories, you mean. I'm all stories." And she laughed her merry laugh.
"But the story?"
"Oh, the story!" She paused for the space of a heart-beat, and her eyes were serious. "Even that began with my birth," she continued. "It's rather long, you see, to tell on a short walk. It's a war story. I was born to battle; and not being a man, and medieval, was appointed to eternal combat with myself."