She threw herself full length on the couch with such violence that the petals of one of the roses on the mantel dropped off. 'I don't understand,' she moaned. 'I don't understand anything any more." She was sobbing, her face hidden in the cushions, and I began saying meaningless words to her, for no other reason than to hear the purr of my voice. 'You'll get well, you've got to get well. Love isn't everything ...' And I knew very well that in her place I would never want to get well and bury my love with my own hands.