But a change had occurred in her which made the fabled transmutations of magic wands seem superficial indeed.

Would he note this change?
Could he guess the cause?
Oh, what _was_ the cause?
Even her pale face grew crimson, for there are truths that come to the consciousness like the lightning from heaven.

She did not need to think, to weigh and reason.

A woman's heart is often above and beyond her reason, and hers had been awakened at last by the all-powerful touch of love.
The time passed, and still Graydon did not come.

He was not absent very long, and yet it began to seem terribly long to her.