Bliss

‘But in her bosom there was still that bright
glowing place–that shower of little sparks
coming from it. It was almost unbearable.
She hardly dared to breathe for fear
of fanning it higher, and yet she breathed
deeply, deeply. She hardly dared to look
into the cold mirror–but she did look, and
it gave her back a woman, radiant, with
smiling, trembling lips, with big, dark
eyes and an air of listening, waiting for
something . . . divine to happen . . . that
she knew must happen . . . infallibly.’