It needs a long time before the heart can companion only with memories.

About its own centre it wraps such warm folds of kindred life.

Tear these away, how the poor heart shivers in its nakedness.
She was alone.

It no longer mattered where she lived, for her alliances henceforth were only of the spirit.

She must find some sphere in which she could create for herself a new activity, for to sit in idleness was to invite dread assaults.