Long time he walked up and down, his eyes on the window.

It held him like a charm.
Once he leaned against the iron railings of the garden and looked up, not moving for a time.

Presently he saw the curtain of the window raised, and against the dim light of the room was outlined the figure of his wife.

He knew it.

She stood for a moment looking out into the night.
She could not see him, nor could he see her features at all plainly, but he knew that she, like him, was alone with the catastrophe which his wickedness had sent upon her.