But her life was as cold as an attic facing north; and boredom, like a silent spider, was weaving its web in the shadows, in every corner of her heart.

He took it for granted that she was content; and she resented his settled calm, his serene dullness, the very happiness she herself brought him.

The music was still throbbing in her ears, and she forced herself to stay awake in order to prolong the illusion of this luxurious life she would so soon have …

But even as they were brought closer together by the details of daily life, she was separated from him by a growing sense of inward detachment. Charles' conver…

I am the only being whose doom No tongue would ask no eye would mourn I never caused a thought of gloom A smile of joy since I was born In secret pleasure - se…

I wish I wouldn't exist at all.

With blackest moss the flower plots Were thickly crusted, one and all; The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable wall. The broken sh…