When, in their common past, when till this moment, had she shown a fear, however dumbly, for his individual life?
They had had fears together, just as they had had joys, but all of hers, at least, had been for what equally concerned them.

Here of a sudden was a question that concerned him alone, and the soundless explosion of it somehow marked a date.

He was on her mind, he was even in a manner on her hands--as a distinct thing, that is, from being, where he had always been, merely deep in her heart and in her life; too deep down, as it were, to be disengaged, contrasted or opposed, in short objectively presented.

But time finally had done it; their relation was altered: he SAW, again, the difference lighted for her.

This marked it to himself--and it wasn't a question simply of a Mrs.Rance the more or the less.