In the upper hall he paused to listen. When Mr. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist.
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