She took it into her head the other day to believe that she was very unhappy, and she sat there, where you are sitting, and told me a tale of her miseries which brought tears into my eyes.

She cried, herself, profusely, and as naturally as possible.

She said she was weary of life and that she knew no one but me she could speak frankly to.

She must speak, or she would go mad.

She sobbed as if her heart would break.