He saw her a dangerous, hostile spirit, that could stand undiminished and unabated.

It was so finished, and of such perfect gesture, moreover.
'I'm awfully glad if it doesn't matter,' he said; 'if there's no real harm done.' She looked back at him, with her fine blue eyes, and signalled full into his spirit, as she said, her voice ringing with intimacy almost caressive now it was addressed to him: 'Of course, it doesn't matter in the LEAST.' The bond was established between them, in that look, in her tone.

In her tone, she made the understanding clear--they were of the same kind, he and she, a sort of diabolic freemasonry subsisted between them.
Henceforward, she knew, she had her power over him.

Wherever they met, they would be secretly associated.

And he would be helpless in the association with her.