The passing years behind the scenes, the passers-by in a hurry, whose thoughts are disturbed by worldly events, whose face is glimpsed in the gloomy dream. The slipped mask, the withered Lolimas rose, the life passing by in a hurry, is like an opera ending with a sigh. The moment I closed my eyes, I saw the raised corners of your mouth. The years buried in dust, the forgotten bits and pieces, the past glory, let everything drift away in the wind, let me see the world after the fog.
This article tells the story of Margaret, an aristocratic woman, from the age of eleven to the end of her life and her love and hatred. The time background is before and after the first industrial revolution.