I think it needs a woman to know it fully; for even now my wife's eyes fill with tears when we speak of it.

Yet she bore it, and if she failed in anything, I wonder that it was in so little.

For it was not only that she had never loved the king and had loved another with all her heart.

The king's health, shattered by the horror and rigors of his imprisonment in the castle of Zenda, soon broke utterly.
He lived, indeed; nay, he shot and hunted, and kept in his hand some measure, at least, of government.

But always from the day of his release he was a fretful invalid, different utterly from the gay and jovial prince whom Michael's villains had caught in the shooting lodge.