She is mourning her misfortune.

(...)

the heavy bondage of her poor,

trapped soul from which there is no escape,

and so she weeps.

She weeps for the lively,

vivacious girl she once was,

the lonely woman she has become...

and most of all... she weeps for the love she'll never feel,

for the love she'll never give.

THE PAINTED VEIL W. Somerset Maugham