“I’ll help you.”
“Are you going to fall to my look of secret sorrow? Look at my profile and tell me if my nose isn’t a trifle too long.”
He gazed at her reflectively, that malicious, ironical look in his bright eyes, but mingled with it, a shadow, like a tree standing at a river’s edge and its reflection in the water, was an expression of singular kindliness. It brought sudden tears to Kitty’s eyes.
“Must you stay?”
“Yes.”
They passed under the flamboyant archway and walked down the hill. When they came to the compound they saw the body of the dead beggar. He took her arm, but she released herself. She stood still.
“It’s dreadful, isn’t it?”
“What? Death.”
“Yes. It makes everything else seem so horribly trivial. He doesn’t look human. When you look at him you can hardly persuade yourself that he’s ever been alive. It’s hard to think that not so very many years ago he was just a little boy tearing down the hill and flying a kite.”
She could not hold back the sob that choked her.
