Explore "The Dewy Morn" by Richard Jefferies on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Felise drove rapidly out of the town, and as she passed glanced carelessly once more at the brilliant flowers in the bow-window.
"Ah, she knows I live here -- she is triumphing over me! " said Rosa to herself, writhing, the cruel fangs of jealousy striking deeply into her. Rosa went to the mirror, looked at herself, and turned away trembling. The truth went home to her like a thrust from a poniard -- she had but prettiness, her rival was beautiful. It was a beauty with which competition was impossible.