But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. I don’t think you understand. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. If he wished, he could even take this inheritance from her. Good night. I wanted you to know.
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