Well, then, though it's not a thing one cares to speak of, I'm a poor man--"
Tell me again," she said, "that you love me, just as you did yesterday, and promise never to speak of all those cruel things again.
It was as though there were something in this which she could not or would not face, as though directly she began to speak of
this, she, the real Anna, retreated somehow into herself, and another strange and unaccountable woman came out, whom he did not love, and whom he feared, and who was in opposition to him.
As a pain-filled black woman's body could appear the quintessence of mute powerlessness, we might never expect a suffering black woman to speak of
her own experience as a body in pain.