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“
Yes
:
a
deeper
one
.
One
that
means
a
fundamental
disaccord
between
us
.
This
one
doesn
’
t
—
in
spite
of
everything
it
doesn
’
t
.
That
’
s
what
I
want
you
to
see
,
and
have
the
courage
to
acknowledge
.
”
“
If
I
saw
it
I
should
have
the
courage
!
”
“
Yes
:
courage
was
the
wrong
word
.
You
have
that
.
That
’
s
why
I
’
m
here
.
”
“
But
I
don
’
t
see
it
,
”
she
continued
sadly
.
“
So
it
’
s
useless
,
isn
’
t
it
?
—
and
so
cruel
.
.
.
”
He
was
about
to
speak
,
but
she
went
on
:
“
I
shall
never
understand
it
—
never
!
”
He
looked
at
her
.
“
You
will
some
day
:
you
were
made
to
feel
everything
”
“
I
should
have
thought
this
was
a
case
of
not
feeling
—
—
”
“
On
my
part
,
you
mean
?
”
He
faced
her
resolutely
.
“
Yes
,
it
was
:
to
my
shame
.
.
.
.
What
I
meant
was
that
when
you
’
ve
lived
a
little
longer
you
’
ll
see
what
complex
blunderers
we
all
are
:
how
we
’
re
struck
blind
sometimes
,
and
mad
sometimes
—
and
then
,
when
our
sight
and
our
senses
come
back
,
how
we
have
to
set
to
work
,
and
build
up
,
little
by
little
,
bit
by
bit
,
the
precious
things
we
’
d
smashed
to
atoms
without
knowing
it
.
Life
’
s
just
a
perpetual
piecing
together
of
broken
bits
.
”
She
looked
up
quickly
.
“
That
’
s
what
I
feel
:
that
you
ought
to
—
—
”
He
stood
up
,
interrupting
her
with
a
gesture
.
“
Oh
,
don
’
t
—
don
’
t
say
what
you
’
re
going
to
!
Men
don
’
t
give
their
lives
away
like
that
.
If
you
won
’
t
have
mine
,
it
’
s
at
least
my
own
,
to
do
the
best
I
can
with
.
”
