But all September passed without letters or visits.
After the ennui of this disappointment her heart once more remained empty, and then the same series of days recommenced.

So now they would thus follow one another, always the same, immovable, and bringing nothing.

Other lives, however flat, had at least the chance of some event.

One adventure sometimes brought with it infinite consequences and the scene changed.

But nothing happened to her; God had willed it so! The future was a dark corridor, with its door at the end shut fast.
She gave up music.