Gordon turned and looked at him slowly from head to foot.

Bernard remembered, with a good deal of vividness, the last look his friend had given him in the Champs Elysees the day before; and he saw with some satisfaction that this was not exactly a repetition of that expression of cold horror.

It was a question, however, whether the horror were changed for the better.

Poor Gordon looked intensely sad and grievously wronged.

The keen resentment had faded from his face, but an immense reproach was there--a heavy, helpless, appealing reproach.
Bernard saw that he had not a scene of violence to dread--and yet, when he perceived what was coming, he would almost have preferred violence.
Gordon did not offer him his hand, and before Bernard had had time to say anything, began to speak again, as if he were going on with what he had been saying to Angela.
"You have done me a great wrong--you have done me a cruel wrong! I have been telling it to Miss Vivian; I came on purpose to tell her.