Theoldcrone“nichered”alaughunderherbonnetandbandage;shethendrewoutashortblackpipe，andlightingitbegantosmoke。Havingindulgedawhileinthissedative，sheraisedherbentbody，tookthepipefromherlips，andwhilegazingsteadilyatthefire，saidverydeliberately—“Youarecold;youaresick;andyouaresilly。”
“Proveit，”Irejoined。
“Iwill，infewwords。Youarecold，becauseyouarealone:nocontactstrikesthefirefromyouthatisinyou。Youaresick;becausethebestoffeelings，thehighestandthesweetestgiventoman，keepsfarawayfromyou。Youaresilly，because，sufferasyoumay，youwillnotbeckonittoapproach，norwillyoustironesteptomeetitwhereitwaitsyou。”
Sheagainputhershortblackpipetoherlips，andrenewedhersmokingwithvigour。
“Youmightsayallthattoalmostanyonewhoyouknewlivedasasolitarydependentinagreathouse。”