"What d'you make of that?" he asked.
She looked up.
"'Tis winter coming again, I suppose."
"Yes—winter for us, death for the leaves. I'm like that—I'm frost-bitten here and there—in places. 'Twas a frosty day with me when you came to dinner. I'm sorry I hurt you. But you must be sensible. It's a lot harder to be a good wife than a popular maiden. My son Mark will need a strong-minded woman, not a silly one. The question is, are you going to rise to it? However, we'll leave that. How did you know in every drop of your blood, as you say, that you'd failed to please me?"
"I knew it by—oh, by everything. By your eyes and by the tone of your voice. You said you wanted to talk to me."
"Well, I did."
"You never asked me nothing."
"There was no need, you told me everything."
"I said nought, I'm sure."
"You said all I wanted to hear and told me a lot more than I wanted, or expected, to hear for that matter."