I awoke on Wednesday morning in a kind of spiritual and physical fever.
Every conflicting emotion which a woman can experience in the cruel
battle between her religion and her love seemed to flood body and
soul--joy, pain, pride, shame, fear, rapture--so that I determined (not
without cause) to make excuse of a headache to stay in bed.
Although it was the last day of Martin's visit, and I charged myself
with the discourtesy of neglecting him, as well as the folly of losing
the few remaining hours of his company, I thought I could not without
danger meet him again.