She nodded. "For weeks an' months, without talkin' to another soul."
"Have you always lived so far away as that? Always in such remote places that you didn't even see people?"
"Huh! Usually I've seen 'em, 'most every day.... But there's a difference between seein' folks and talkin' to 'em."
He was puzzled and said so.
"Funny!" she repeated after him. "Maybe it's funny ... but I can't see it that-a way."
"But surely you've made friends! A girl like you couldn't help make friends."
"I've never had a friend in my life ... but Alf," she answered bitterly.
"Then it must have been because you didn't want to make friends with people."
"Didn't want to!" she echoed almost angrily. "What else does anybody want but friends ... an' things like that? Oh, I wanted to all right, but folks don't make friends with ... with trash like we are. We ain't got enough to have friends; ain't got enough even to have peace."
Hilton studied her face carefully. It was a queer blending of appealing want and virulence.