She didn't seem to care any more about her lover that she was engaged to be married to, and she liked the smell of the flowers so, that I used to take her.

O, if I could but like anything--if I could but think about anything else! If these dreadful feelings would go away, I wouldn't mind about not being happy.

I wouldn't want anything--and I could do what would please Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel.

But when that rage and anger comes into me, I don't know what to do.

I don't feel the ground under me; I only feel my head and heart beating, and it seems as if I must do something dreadful.