Wearily She Went To Bed, Wearily She

It Seemed As Though He Gave Way All At Once; He Was So Languid That He Could Not Control His Thoughts; They Would Wander To Her; They Would Bring Back The Scene,- Not Of His Repulse And Rejection The Day Before But The Looks, The Actions Of The Day Before That. He Went Along The Crowded Streets Mechanically, Winding In And Out Among The People, But Never Seeing Them, -almost Sick With Longing For That One Half-hour-that One Brief Space Of Time When She Clung To Him, And Her Heart Beat Against His-to Come Once Again.

A Solitary Life Cherishes Mere Fancies Until They Become Manias.

But I Was Right. I Think That Must Be An Hereditary Quality, For My Father Says He Is Scarcely Ever Wrong.

I Am So Tired - So Tired Of Being Of Being Whirled On Through All These Phases Of My Life, In Which Nothing Abides By Me, No Creature, No Place; It Is Like The Circle In Which The Victims Of Earthly Passion Eddy Continually.

Oh! That Look Of Love!" Continued He, Between His Teeth, As He Bolted Himself Into His Own Private Room. "and That Cursed Lie; Which Showed Some Terrible Shame In The Background, To Be Kept From The Light In Which I Thought She Lived Perpetually! Oh, Margaret, Margaret! Mother, How You Have Tortured Me! Oh! Margaret, Could You Not Have Loved Me? I Am But Uncouth And Hard, But I Would Never Have Led You Into Any Falsehood For Me.