But I do love, though it is true that I don't know how to love very wisely.

What is the use in denying it?
This winter has been a deafening, stupefying fever to me.
The sheer noise of it stunned me until I forgot how I did feel about anything.

Then--I don't know--somehow, in the rain out there, I began to wake ...

Dear, the old instincts, the old desires, the old truths, came back out of chaos; that full feeling here"-- she laid her fingers on her throat--"the sense of expectancy, the restless hope growing out of torpid acquiescence--all returned; and, dearest, with them all came memories of him.

What am I to do?
Could you tell me ?" For a long while Mrs.Ferrall sat in troubled silence, her hand shading her eyes.