There is something here of a death wish as a desire for escape and relief, for freedom from the human world, freedom even from the physical world.
Clarissa knows she lacks something central which permeated, something warm which broke up surfaces and rippled the cold contact of man and woman, or of women together. Her solitary room with the narrow bed and tightly drawn sheet, her inability to respond to her husband's emotional appeals, are all part of her self-preservation, her attempt to protect the thing there was that mattered that refuses to be shared and can rarely be communicated.