“Get out of here,” she said softly. “You never bought a house, though I asked you to — and I had planned so many treasures for you to have in it. You never had children, though I promised I would bring them up. Put the sign back on the door. I don’t want to see anyone who witnessed my shame. If you’d allowed me to die, as I made up my mind to when I realised I would never be capable of real work again, I would have watched over you from beyond the grave. But now I can’t stand having you near me. Just go.”
