This simple sight overwhelmed me.

It was the infiniteness of a heart partaking of nature--this clouding of his face.
I saw with what love he lifted himself up to her.

She knew it.

There was a great gentleness in her words, in her attitude toward him, which in every little detail showed that she knew his love.

She did not encourage him, or lie to him, but whenever she could, by a word, by a gesture, or by some beautiful silence, she would try to console him a little for the harm she did him by her presence and by her absence.
After studying her face again, while the shadow drew him still nearer to her in spite of himself, he said: "You are the sad confidante of my love of you." He spoke of their marriage again.