He had almost at once become to her an admired mystery, which, however, at first she did not dare wish to solve.

She had been content to be a kind of handmaiden to a generous and adored master.

She knew that where he had been she could in one sense never go, and yet she wanted to be near him just the same.
This was intensified after the Logan Trial and the shooting of the man who somehow seemed to have made her live in a new way.
As long ago as she could recall she had, in a crude, untutored way, been fond of the things that nature made beautiful; but now she seemed to see them in a new light, but not because any one had deliberately taught her.

Indeed, it bored her almost to hear books read as Jesse Bulrush and Nurse Egan, and even her mother, read them to Crozier after his operation, to help him pass away the time.

The only time she ever cared to listen--at school, though quick and clever, she had never cared for the printed page--was when, by chance, poetry or verses were read or recited.