"Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. THAMES DARRELL.
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