These had been innocent enough, and yet, to my imagination, stimulated by this discovery, formed the basis of a dream of hope.

I knew this, that however sincerely she might have once supposed she loved Henley, his neglect, cruelty, dissipation, had long ago driven all sentiment from her.
Before we met, her girlhood affection had been utterly crushed and destroyed.

Loyal, she was, and true to every tradition of her womanhood.

No audacity, no boldness, could penetrate her reserve, or lower her self-respect.

Before I knew who she was, when I had every reason to doubt and to question, I was still restrained by an invisible personality which kept me helpless.