The sun rise up, and up, and up, and then sleep come to her too late, but so heavy that she will not wake.

I have to lift her up, and place her sleeping in the carriage when I have harnessed the horses and made all ready.

Madam still sleep, and she look in her sleep more healthy and more redder than before.

And I like it not.

And I am afraid, afraid, afraid! I am afraid of all things, even to think but I must go on my way.