“How is that carmine working?” he asked, with a forced interest. She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. She told me the tale the other night, and I've only elaborated it. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. G. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing.
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