For the first time she perceived the hold which that impassioned friendship had taken upon her brother's heart.
He loved her, too, but with a secondary love.

The comparison annoyed her daily, hourly, and it did not fail to become a real wound.

Returned to Paris, where they spent almost three years, that wound was increased by the sole fact that the puissant individuality of the painter speedily relegated to the shade the individuality of his wife, simply, almost mechanically, like a large tree which pushes a smaller one into the background.

The composite society of artists, amateurs, and writers who visited Lincoln came there only for him.

The house they had rented was rented only for him.