I thought you were shy, perhaps more reserved than of yore.

I thought everything and anything except that you had ceased to love me; I would have believed anything rather than that you were not going to fulfill our ancient contract, and make me your wife.

I tried to make you talk of old times--you were unwilling; you seemed confused, embarrassed I read all those signs aright; still I hoped against hope.

I tried to win you--I tried all that love, patience, gentleness, and consideration could do.
"What women bear, and yet live on! Do you know that every moment of that time was full of deadly torture to me, deadly anguish?
Ah, me, the very memory of it distresses me! Every one spoke to me as though our engagement was a certainty, and our marriage settled.

Yet to me there came, very slowly, the awful conviction that you had ignored, or had forgotten the old ties.