She was alone in her room, at a crisis in her life.

She was worn and weakened by emotions which had shaken her to the soul.
Little by little she felt the enervating influences let loose on her, in her lonely position, by her new train of thought.

Little by little her heart began to sink under the stealthy chill of superstitious dread.
Vaguely horrible presentiments throbbed in her with her pulses, flowed through her with her blood.

Mystic oppressions of hidden disaster hovered over her in the atmosphere of the room.

The cheerful candle-light turned traitor to her and grew dim.