He was my North, my South, my East and West, / My working week and my Sunday rest

Are mixed, confounded; if we are loved or love, We scarce distinguish. So, with other power. Being acted on and acting seem the same: In that first onrush of life’s chariot-wheels, We know not if the forests move or we.

But Miss Thorn relieved the situation by laughing aloud,[…]. By the time we reached the house we were thanking our stars she had come. Mrs. Cooke came out from under the port-cochere to welcome her.

Mrs. Malloy's innocent expression merited an Academy Award.