I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. Ruth went on to explain. Come along, you mad jade. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. That is not reasonable. ’ ‘A life of ease?’ repeated Melusine.
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