I helped Jacintha make your soup and your chocolate every day.
I had the delight of lining the dressing-gown you were to wear.

I had always some little thing or other to do for you.

These kept me up: I forgot in my selfishness that you had none of these supports, and that I was driving you to despair.

I am a foolish, disingenuous woman: I have been very culpable.

Forgive me!" "Forgive you, angel of purity and goodness?
I alone am to blame.
What right had I to doubt your heart?
I knew the whole story of your marriage; I saw your sweet pale face; but I was not pure enough to comprehend angelic virtue and unselfishness.