She sighed faintly. Then she dipped again into her novel, wherein the emotions, from love downwards, were turned on thick and violent as from so many taps in a factory; got bored with it; looked on to the last chapter to see what happened to everybody; and, finally—fell asleep.
CHAPTER XIII
To me alone there came a thought of griefs
A timely utterance gave that thought relief,
And I again am strong:
· · · · ·
I hear the echoes through the mountains throng,
The winds come to me from the fields of sleep,
And all the earth is gay....
Ode, W. W.