She turned her face slightly aside.
"I didn't--" he began, but got no farther, feeling weak in all his bones.

She never reproached him or was angry with him.

He was often cruelly ashamed.

But still again his anger burst like a bubble surcharged; and still, when he saw her eager, silent, as it were, blind face, he felt he wanted to throw the pencil in it; and still, when he saw her hand trembling and her mouth parted with suffering, his heart was scalded with pain for her.

And because of the intensity to which she roused him, he sought her.
Then he often avoided her and went with Edgar.