alone,
remember.
You were
nothing to
me once,
and I was
contented;
you are
now
nothing to
me again,
and how
different
the second
nothing is
from the
first!
Would to
God you
had never
taken me
up, since
it was
only to
throw me
down!”
Bathsheba,
in spite
of her
mettle,
began to
feel
un-mistakable
signs that
she was
inherently
the weaker
vessel.
She strove
miserably
against
this
feminity
which
would
insist
upon
supplying
unbidden
emotions
