We had risen to go, but there was something in the woman's voice which arrested Holmes' attention. He turned swiftly on her.
``Your life is not your own,'' he said. ``Keep your hands off it.''
``What use is it to anyone?''
``How can you tell? The example of patient suffering is in itself the most precious of all lessons in an impatient world.''
The woman's answer was a terrible one. She raised her veil and stepped forward into the light.
``I wonder if you would bear it,'' she said.
It was horrible. No words can describe the framework of a face when the face itself is gone. Two living and beautiful brown eyes looking sadly out from that grisly ruin did but make the view more awful. Holmes held up his hand in a gesture of pity and protest, and together we left the room.
--- Arthur Conan Doyle, ``The Veiled Lodger''