She was alone in the big house with her misery and despair . She went dizzily upstairs to her own room and flung herself on the bed in the chill moonlight . `` It is all over , '' she said dully . All night she lay there , fighting with her pain . In the wan , grey morning she looked at her mirrored self with pitying scorn -- at the pallid face , the lifeless features , the dispirited eyes with their bluish circles . `` What a fool I have been to imagine he could care for me ! '' she said bitterly . `` He has only been amusing himself with my folly . And to think that I let him kiss me the other night ! '' She thought of that kiss with a pitiful shame . She hated herself for the weakness that could not check her tears . Her lonely life had been brightened by the companionship of her young lover . The youth and girlhood of which fate had cheated her had come to her with love ; the future had looked rosy with promise ; now it had darkened with dourness and greyness . Maggie Hatfield came that day to sew . Bessy had intended to have a dark-blue silk made up and an evening waist of pale pink cashmere . She had expected to wear the latter at a party which was to come off a fortnight later , and she had got it to please Lawrence , because he had told her that pink was his favourite colour . She would have neither it nor the silk made up now . She put them both away and instead brought out an ugly pattern of snuff-brown stuff , bought years before and never used . `` But where is your lovely pink , Bessy ? '' asked the dressmaker .
`` Are n't you going to have it XXXXX the party ? ''
at because before by for in of over to with