She stopped to glance up at me. "And can't you?"
"Were you ever in a situation which you felt you had to swing alone? You know you could get help; you know you could count on sympathy; but whenever you're impelled to appeal for either something holds you back."
"I never was in such a situation, but I can imagine what it's like. May I ask one question?"
I felt obliged to grant the permission.
"Is it of the nature of what is generally called trouble?"
"It's of the nature of what is generally called misfortune."
"And I suppose I mustn't say so much as that I'm sorry."
"You could say that much," I smiled, "if you didn't say any more."
She repeated the weary gesture of a few minutes earlier, a slight tossing outward of both hands, with a heavy drop against the sides.
"What a life!"