She must really hate him, then! He had never believed it yet. He did not believe it now. It seemed to him incredible. He felt as though he had lost forever his power of judgment. If she, so soft and yielding as he had always judged her, could take this decided step⁠—what could not happen?

Then he asked himself again if she were carrying on an intrigue with Bosinney. He did not believe that she was; he could not afford to believe such a reason for her conduct⁠—the thought was not to be faced.

It would be unbearable to contemplate the necessity of making his marital relations public property. Short of the most convincing proofs he must still refuse to believe, for he did not wish to punish himself. And all the time at heart⁠—he did believe.

The moonlight cast a greyish tinge over his figure, hunched against the staircase wall.