she sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.she was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. but now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. it was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.there was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. what was it? she did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. but she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.
now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. she was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will