It began as a joke. Then she dropped the curtain and stepped back into the room. You’re going to live under the cat’s foot. "Thames!—Thames!" cried Winifred, rushing to the window. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother.
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