Explore "A Tragedy of Love and Hate" by Bertha M. Clay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The sun shone round him, the flowers bloomed fair, the sweet south wind whispered of all bright things; but Sir Ronald never raised his despairing face to the summer heavens.
Life and hope were crushed within him; he did not care to rise from the ground where he had flung himself in the first wild paroxysm of grief; he had some vague hope that he might die there; but it takes much to kill a strong man.