"You can't explain anything so 's to blind me any longer! I
was a big fool to ever suppose you had any heart in you; but when
you came round at first, and was so meek you couldn't say your soul
was your own, and was so glad if S'tira spoke to you, or looked at
you, that you was ready to go crazy, I _did_ suppose there was
some _little_ something to you! And yes, I helped you on all I
could, and helped you to fool that poor thing that you ain't worthy
to kiss the ground she walks on, Lord forgive me _for_ it! But
it's all changed now! You seem to think it's the greatest favour if
you come round once a fortnight, and set and let her talk to you,
and show you how she dotes upon you, the poor little silly coot! And
if you ever speak a word, it's like the Lord unto Moses, it's so
grand! But I understand! You've got other friends now! _You after
that art-student_? Oh, you can blush and try to turn it off! I've
seen you blush before, and I know you! And I know you're in love
with that girl, and you're just waitin' to break off with S'tira;
but you hain't got the spirit to up and do it like a man! You want
to let it lag along, and _lag_ along, and see 'f something
won't happen to get you out of it! _You waitin' for her to
die_? Well, you won't have to wait long! But if I was a man, I'd
spoil your beauty for you first."
The torrent of her words rolled him on, bruising and tearing his
soul, which their truth pierced like jagged points.
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