“No, but I felt someone was here—Something has happened! Tell me?”
“Yes. Your hair.”
“It has turned gray since last night.” She was out of bed with a bound, standing before the mirror.
“Let in the light.”
He went from window to window; the sun struck the surface of the looking glass, dancing in and out of the silver veil that enveloped her.
She gave a low cry, and shrunk away.
“Julie, don’t grieve about what can’t be helped; it often happens from such headaches; it’s your nerves.” He wanted to say, “You will always be the same to me because I love you.” He couldn’t.
“It is not a symptom, it is a punishment.”
“You have done nothing to deserve punishment.”