I wanted to make love to her--oh, immensely, but I was never in the mood, or the opportunity was never forthcoming.

I used to have the wildest fits of irritation; not of madness or of depression, but of simple wildness at the continual recurrence of small obstacles.

I couldn't read, couldn't bring myself to it.

I used to sit and look dazedly at the English newspapers--at any newspaper but the _Hour_.

De Mersch had, for the moment, disappeared.
There were troubles in his elective grand duchy--he had, indeed, contrived to make himself unpopular with the electors, excessively unpopular.