When was it?
Elizabeth.
Thirty-four—thirty-five years ago; before he went to India. I loved him long before your mother did.
Vera.
You say you loved the child. Didn't you hate him for it?
Elizabeth.
Hate him? No. I was half mad, I think. I used to watch his face. If there had been a single shadow on it, I think I should have hated him. But he never changed. He was always untroubled, and his eyes were always true and fearless! Then I knew he could bear all my burdens, and I need fear nothing any more.
Vera.
Why did he not marry you?