So you shun me ?--you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence.

You are passionate.

I expected a scene of some kind.

I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief.

But I err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace of tears.