The passion and despair of that undisciplined heart were something painful to see.

Reason, sense, and honor, for a time were all dead.
If Dora could have stamped out the calm beauty of Valentine's magnificent face, she would have done so.

Ronald's anger, his bitter contempt, stung her, until her whole heart and soul were in angry revolt, until bitter thoughts raged like a wild tempest within her.
She could not see much harm in what she had done; she did not quite see why reading her own husband's letter, or listening to a private conversation of his was a breach of honor.

She thought but little at the time of what she had done; her heart was full of anger against Ronald and Valentine.

She clasped her hands angrily after Mrs.
Charteris had kissed her, crying out that she was false, and had lured Ronald from her.