1 As to my own will or conscience, impassioned grief had trampled one and stifled the other.
2 I cannot deny that I grieved for his grief, whatever that was, and would have given much to assuage it.
3 Reserved people often really need the frank discussion of their sentiments and griefs more than the expansive.
4 It kept up a slow fire of indignation and a trembling trouble of grief, which harassed and crushed me altogether.
5 I that evening shut my eyes resolutely against the future: I stopped my ears against the voice that kept warning me of near separation and coming grief.
6 The spell by which I had been so far supported began to dissolve; reaction took place, and soon, so overwhelming was the grief that seized me, I sank prostrate with my face to the ground.
7 Fearful, however, of losing this first and only opportunity of relieving my grief by imparting it, I, after a disturbed pause, contrived to frame a meagre, though, as far as it went, true response.
8 I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs, fearful lest any sign of violent grief might waken a preternatural voice to comfort me, or elicit from the gloom some haloed face, bending over me with strange pity.
9 Having given some further directions, and intimates that he should call again the next day, he departed; to my grief: I felt so sheltered and befriended while he sat in the chair near my pillow; and as he closed the door after him, all the room darkened and my heart again sank: inexpressible sadness weighed it down.