When he came into the room with the wood in his arms, she pretended to be busy with her studies but watched him eagerly. When he put the wood in the box and turned to go out, she put down her head and blushed. She tried to make talk but could say nothing, and after he had gone she was angry at herself for her stupidity. It seemed to her that between herself and all the other people in the world, a wall had been built up and that she was living just on the edge of some warm inner circle of life that must be quite open and understandable to others. She became obsessed with the thought that it wanted but a courageous act on her part to make all of her association with people something quite different, and that it was possible by such an act to pass into a new life as one opens a door and goes into a room.
Love is like a wind stirring the grass beneath trees on a black night.
You must not try to make love definite. It is the divine accident of life. Like most young girls, she thought marriage would change the face of life. Young wives with whom she had talked spoke softly and shyly. I wanted, it was marriage.