There was a year then -- part of the time I did n't believe in God at all and the rest I hated Him . I was very wicked but I was so unhappy . Father had so many dreadful moods and -- there was something else . I used to wish to die . '' She bowed her head on her hands and gazed moodily on the ground . Alan , leaning against a pine tree , looked down at her . The sunlight fell through the swaying boughs on her glory of burnished hair and lighted up the curve of cheek and chin against the dark background of wood brown . All the defiance and wildness had gone from her for the time and she seemed like a helpless , weary child . He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her . `` You must resemble your mother , '' he said absently , as if thinking aloud . `` You do n't look at all like your father . '' Lynde shook her head . `` No , I do n't look like Mother either . She was tiny and dark -- she had a sweet little face and velvet-brown eyes and soft curly dark hair . Oh , I remember her look so well . I wish I did resemble her . I loved her so -- I would have done anything to save her suffering and trouble . At least , she died in peace . '' There was a curious note of fierce self-gratulation in the girl 's voice as she spoke the last sentence . Again Alan felt the unpleasant impression that there was much in her that he did not understand -- might never understand -- although such understanding was necessary to perfect friendship .
She had never spoken so freely of her past life to him before , yet he felt somehow that something was being kept back XXXXX jealous repression .
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