To her own mother she had said—without warning, without excuse standing up in the middle of a meal with her face purple and her mouth half full—“Woman! do you ever look inside? Do you ever look inside and see what you are not? God!” she had cried sinking down again and staring at her plate, “Malebranche was right: we are not our own light. We are not our own light!” Mrs Hopewell had no idea to this day what brought that on. She had only made the remark hoping Joy would take it in that a smile never hurt anyone.
