She sat quite motionless, with her veil down.

Every few moments a long, tremulous, heart-broken sigh stirred this sable curtain which shut in my companion's face.

I felt a deep sympathy for her, whoever she might be, old or young, pretty or ugly.

I inferred that she was a widow; I could hear that she was in affliction; but I was far too diffident to invent any little courteous way of expressing my sympathy.

In about half an hour, she put her veil to one side, and asked me, in a low, sweet, pathetic voice, if I had any objection to drawing down the blind, as her veil smothered her, and she had wept so much that her eyes could not bear the strong light of the afternoon sun.