"That will be best; and I will bring your wife to you." He said nothing, but assented with a motion of the hand, and she left him where he was.

He braced himself for the interview.

Assuredly a man loses something of natural courage and self-confidence when he has done a thing of which he should be, and is, ashamed.
It seemed a long time (it was in reality but a couple of minutes) before the door opened again, and Marion said: "Frank, your wife!" and then retreated.
The door closed, leaving a stately figure standing just inside it.

The figure did not move forwards, but stood there, full of life and fine excitement, but very still also.
Frank Armour was confounded.

He came forwards slowly, looking hard.
Was this distinguished, handsome, reproachful woman his wife--Lali, the Indian girl, whom he had married in a fit of pique and brandy?
He could hardly believe his eyes; and yet hers looked out at him with something that he remembered too, together with something which he did not remember, making him uneasy.