locus classicus

...
she turns and looks a moment in the glass,
hardly aware of her departed lover;
her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
'well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.'
when lovely woman stoops to folly and
paces about her room again, alone,
she smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
and puts a record on the gramophone.
...
(t.s.eliot – wasteland III)