Her trick of talking of the landscape, as if she were on a holiday like Pippa, is not as subtly conceived or executed as it should be, and is too far away from her dominant carnality to be natural.

And her sensualism is too coarse for her position.

A certain success is attained, but the imagination is frequently jarred.

The very outburst of unsensual love at the end, when her love passes from the flesh into the spirit, when self-sacrifice dawns upon her and she begins to suffer the first agonies of redemption, is plainly more due to the poet's pity than to the woman's spirit.

Again, Sebald is the first to feel remorse after the murder.