His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. ” A sudden sense of the gravity of this thing came home to Anna. A little love from him would be enough. “Forgive me,” he said.
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