Bedelia

The narcotic of self-pity had freed her of the sense of guilt.

speeding at twenty miles an hour

“He doesn’t talk about himself.”
“How strange for a man

Thirty years before she would have been called a beauty, but fashions in women change as drastically as in clothes. The Burne-Jones virgin had given way to the Gibson girl, and nowadays Ellen’s face was considered too long, her head too narrow, the pale brown coronet of braids absurdly out of style