" It must have been-hell!" Merivale said.
"Just so," bowed his Grace. "It was the very worst kind of hell, as I know."
"The wonder is that she has come through it unscathed."
The hazel eyes lifted.
"Not quite unscathed, my dear Anthony. Those years have left their mark."
"It were inevitable, I suppose. But I confess I have not seen the mark."
"Possibly not. You see the roguery, and the dauntless spirit."
"And you?" Merivale watched him curiously.
"Oh, I see beneath, my dear! But then, I have had experience of the sex, as you know."
"And you see-what?"
"A certain cynicism, born of the life she has led; a streak of strange wisdom; the wistfulness behind the gaiety; sometimes fear; and nearly always the memory of loneliness that hurts the soul. "
― Georgette Heyer , These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley, #1)
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"Just so," bowed his Grace. "It was the very worst kind of hell, as I know."
"The wonder is that she has come through it unscathed."
The hazel eyes lifted.
"Not quite unscathed, my dear Anthony. Those years have left their mark."
"It were inevitable, I suppose. But I confess I have not seen the mark."
"Possibly not. You see the roguery, and the dauntless spirit."
"And you?" Merivale watched him curiously.
"Oh, I see beneath, my dear! But then, I have had experience of the sex, as you know."
"And you see-what?"
"A certain cynicism, born of the life she has led; a streak of strange wisdom; the wistfulness behind the gaiety; sometimes fear; and nearly always the memory of loneliness that hurts the soul." style="width:100%;margin:20px 0;"/>