There was something spinster-like in the tenor of her thoughts.

But she would have laid down her life for this dull man's happiness.

And of late she had more than once blamed herself for accepting so much, unthinkingly.
"I did not realise things properly," she had said to herself in humble pain.

"I ought to have been a girl, young and strong and beautiful.

His sacrifice was too great, it was immense." It had been nothing of the sort.