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It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. "Your faults were the faults of circumstances. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter.
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