I fear what her dreams might be like, with such terrible memories to ground them in.

She has not been so calm, within my seeing, since the sunset.

Then, for a while, there came over her face a repose which was like spring after the blasts of March.

I thought at the time that it was the softness of the red sunset on her face, but somehow now I think it has a deeper meaning.

I am not sleepy myself, though I am weary ...