It is about Anne; she has so much to endure: far, far more than I ever had.

When my thoughts turn to her, they always see her as a patient, persecuted stranger.

I know what concealed susceptibility is in her nature, when her feelings are wounded.

I wish I could be with her, to administer a little balm.

She is more lonely--less gifted with the power of making friends, even than I am.