...of pain

"I'm sorry," she said, "if this has upset you," and then, since I made no reply, she added: "I never meant to do anybody any harm." She looked hard into my face, as though claiming my sympathy, but I had none to spare, and so, after a moment or two, she turned away from me and began to comb her hair in front of the small mirror that hung from a nail in one of the walls. I watched her as she stood with her back to me, and found it painful to see the delicate carriage of her hips and the dress creased below the armpits as she raised her hands to her head. Still I had nothing to say, and yet felt strongly that it was time for me to speak, so that my own silence became embarrassing to me.

[The Aerodrome, Warner, R.]