It is not you--it is not Donal--God help it." Then she was not alone--even as she sat in the emptiness of the room.
She put up her hands and covered her face with them.
"What--will happen ?" she murmured.

But she did not cry.
The deadliness of the blow which had stupefied her still left her barely conscious of earthly significances.

But something of the dark mistiness was beginning to lift slowly and reveal to her vague shadows and shapes, as it were.

If no one would believe that she was married to Donal, then people would think that she had been the kind of girl who is sent away from decent houses, if she is a servant, and cut off in awful disgrace from her family and never spoken to again, if she belongs to the upper classes.

Books and Benevolent Societies speak of her as "fallen" and "lost." Her vision of such things was at once vague and primitive.