It was over these few worthless papers that she brooded and brooded. She lived in her past life--every letter seemed to recall some circumstance of it. How well she remembered them all! His looks and tones, his dress, what he said and how--these relics and remembrances of dead affection were all that were left her in the world. And the business of her life, was--to watch the corpse of Love.

It was over these few worthless papers that she brooded; these relics of dead affection were all that were left her in the world. 