Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton — Read

While Kumalo was waiting for Msimangu to take him to Shanty Town, he spent the time with Gertrude and her child. But it was rather to the child, the small serious boy, that he turned for his enjoyment; for he had been a young man in his twenties when his sister was born, and there had never been great intimacy between them. After all he was a parson, sober and rather dull no doubt, and his hair was turning white, and she was a young woman still. Nor could he expect her to talk with him about the deep things that were here in Johannesburg; for it was amongst these very things that saddened and perplexed him, that she had found her life and occupation.

Here were heavy things indeed, too heavy for a woman who had not gone beyond the fifth standard of her country school. She was respectful to him, as it behooved her to be to an elder brother and a parson, and they exchanged conventional conversation; but never again did they speak of the things that had made her fall on the floor with crying and weeping.