All Passion Spent

by Vita Sackville-West

Herbert was always full of information; and the surprising thing was, for such a stupid man, it was usually correct.

Edith, who passed privately among her relations for a half-wit,

she had never unbent sufficiently

And I don’t want them bringing their children to see me, for it would only remind me of the terrible effort the poor creatures will have to make before they reach the end of their lives in safety.

she was probably the only person in the world with whom he need not make an effort. It was perhaps an arid compliment, but a sincere one. She

a relationship which had grown up, creating itself, as swiftly and exquisitely as a little rigged ship of blown glass, each strand hardening instantly as it left the tube and met the air, yet remaining so brittle that a false note, jarring on the ethereal ripples, could splinter it.