But enough of this.

There are questions we can afford to leave.
Sepia had got very thin during these trying days.

Her great eyes were larger yet, and filled with a troubled anxiety.

Not paleness, for of that her complexion was incapable, but a dull pallor possessed her cheek.

If one had met her as she roamed the house that night, he might well have taken her for some naughty ancestor, whose troubled conscience, not yet able to shake off the madness of some evil deed, made her wander still about the place where she had committed it.
She believed in no supreme power who cares that right should be done in his worlds.