"But I hardly expected you to come back to-night," he added.
At the sound of his voice a strange smile came into her wan face and lingered there.

She had not thought to hear him speak again, kindly or unkindly, for she had come with the fixed determination to meet her death at Israel Kafka's hands and to let that be the end.

Amid all the wild thoughts that had whirled through her brain as she ran home in the dark, that one had not once changed.
"And Israel Kafka ?" she asked, almost timidly.
"He is there--asleep." Unorna came forward and the Wanderer showed her where the man lay upon a thick carpet, wrapped in furs, his pale head supported by a cushion.
"He is very ill," she said, almost under her breath.

"Tell me what has happened." It was like a dream to her.

The tremendous excitement of what had happened in the convent had cut her off from the realisation of what had gone before.