The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. "'A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. There is a tragedy to come. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. Little by little, she stopped hating him. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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