Snowed Up

He did not answer, but came and stood behind her, in the darkness.

'Look,' she said, 'at that lovely star up there. Do you know its name?' He crouched beside her, to look through the low window.

'No,' he said. 'It is very fine.' 'ISN'T it beautiful! Do you notice how it darts different coloured
fires--it flashes really superbly--' They remained in silence. With a mute, heavy gesture she put her hand
on his knee, and took his hand.

'Are you regretting Ursula?' he asked.

'No, not at all,' she said. Then, in a slow mood, she asked: 'How much do you love me?' He stiffened himself further against her.

'How much do you think I do?' he asked.

'I don't know,' she replied.

'But what is your opinion?' he asked.

There was a pause. At length, in the darkness, came her voice, hard and
indifferent: 'Very little indeed,' she said coldly, almost flippant.

His heart went icy at the sound of her voice.

'Why don't I love you?' he asked, as if admitting the truth of her
accusation, yet hating her for it.

'I don't know why you don't--I've been good to you. You were in a
FEARFUL state when you came to me.' Her heart was beating to suffocate her, yet she was strong and
unrelenting.

'When was I in a fearful state?' he asked.