Excerpt from Melmoth the Wanderer, Vol. 4 of 4: A Tale

She had renewed, in these nightly conferences, her former visionary existence. Her whole day was but a long thought of the hour at which she expected to see him. In the day-time she was silent, pensive, abstracted, feeding on thought - with the evening her spirits perceptibly though softly rose, like those of one who has a secret and incommunicable store of delight, and her mind became like that ¿ower that unfolds its leaves, and diffuses its odours, only on the approach of night.

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