She looked at him firmly, and put out her hand again as if she had forgotten what had passed since those words of his which she promised to remember. But there was no approach to a smile on her lips. She had never smiled since her husband's death. When she stood still and in silence, she looked like a melancholy statue of the Gwendolen whose laughter had once been so ready when others were grave.

She looked at him firmly, and put out her hand again, but without a smile. She had never smiled since her husband's death. She looked like a melancholy statue of the Gwendolen whose laughter had once been so ready when others were grave.
