She had not been too blind to see the unpleasantness of the fresh facts revealed to her.

They did not change her; on the contrary, drew her to him faster--and she thought she had completely conquered whatever could rise against him.

But when Juliana Bonner told her that day that Evan was not only the son of the thing, but the thing himself, and that his name could be seen any day in Lymport, and that he had come from the shop to Beckley, poor Rosey had a sick feeling that almost sank her.

For a moment she looked back wildly to the doors of retreat.

Her eyes had to feed on Evan, she had to taste some of the luxury of love, before she could gain composure, and then her arrogance towards those she called her enemies did not quite return.
'In that letter you told me all--all--all, Evan ?' 'Yes, all-religiously.' 'Oh, why did I miss it!' 'Would it give you pleasure ?' She feared to speak, being tender as a mother to his sensitiveness.
The expressive action of her eyebrows sufficed.