She had been married against her will; she struggled a long time; but she regretted nothing except that she had not been able to inspire a more sincere affection.

I believe she even accused herself because she had not been able to hold her lover's heart, and because she had been guilty of apparent indifference.
When she had unburdened her heart she became silent.
"Madame," I said, "it was not chance that brought about our meeting in the Bois de Boulogne.

I believe that human sorrows are but wandering sisters and that some good angel unites the trembling hands that are stretched out for aid.

Do not repent having told me your sorrow.

The secret you have confided to me is only a tear which has fallen from your eye, but has rested on my heart.