The cynicism had gone from his face, and the hardness and bitterness too.
"Oh, cannot you help me? It is so hard!"
She looked at him wistfully. He turned away from her eyes and hid his face in his hands.
"It was a mistake," he said, slowly, dully.
"Yes."
Still she waited.
He looked up, and she strove to read his face in vain.
Sad it was, and set, and yet there was a light there too.
He took her hands gently in his.