“Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. The affair passed at one leap from a spree to a nightmare of violence and disgust. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. ‘Couldn’t even trouble to make a pretence of motherhood.
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