I Managed To Say, "Sorry," And No More. I Knew That He Disliked Me To Cry.

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I managed to say, "Sorry," and no more. I knew that he disliked
me to cry.
This time he said, watching me, "On some occasions it is better
to weep."
I put my head down on the table and sobbed, "If only she could come
back; I would be nice."
Francis said, "You gave her great pleasure always."
"Oh, not enough."
"Nobody can give anybody enough."
"Not ever?"
"No, not ever. But one must go on trying."
"And doesn't one ever value people until they are gone?"
"Rarely," said Francis. I went on weeping; I saw how little I had
valued him; how little I had valued anything that was mine.
-- Pamela Frankau, "The Duchess and the Smugs"