But apart from this one episode she had reached the age of twenty-three heart-whole.
She rose and replaced the chair.

And suddenly a wave of pity passed over her for the dead woman, who had always seemed so lonely in the great stiffly-furnished house, and the tears came.
She was glad she had been able to cry.

She had always hated herself for her lack of tears; it was so unwomanly.

Even as a child she had rarely cried.
Her father had always been very tender, very patient towards her mother, but she had not expected to find him so changed.

He had aged and his shoulders drooped.