She made no reply, and he turned to look at her.

She was sitting motionless, with her head pressed to Mrs.Hudson's shoulder, and the latter lady was gazing at him through the silvered dusk with a look which gave a sort of spectral solemnity to the sad, weak meaning of her eyes.

She had the air, for the moment, of a little old malevolent fairy.

Miss Garland, Rowland perceived in an instant, was not absolutely motionless; a tremor passed through her figure.

She was weeping, or on the point of weeping, and she could not trust herself to speak.