Manisty, who had forgotten all that the day was once to signify, had resigned himself to the expedition--he who hated expeditions!--' because Neal wanted it.' There had not been a word said about it during the last few days that had not brought gall and wound to Eleanor.

She, who thought she knew all that male selfishness was capable of, was yet surprised and pricked anew, hour after hour, by Manisty's casual sayings and assumptions.
It was like some gourd-growth in the night--the rise of this entangling barrier between herself and him.

She knew that some of it came from those secret superstitions and fancies about himself and his work which she had often detected in him.

If a companion or a place, even a particular table or pen had brought him luck, he would recur to them and repeat them with eagerness.

But once prove to him the contrary, and she had seen him drop friend and pen with equal decision.
And as far as she could gather--as far as he would discuss the matter at all--it was precisely with regard to those portions of the book where her influence upon it had been strongest, that the difficulties put forward by Mr.Neal had arisen.
Her lip quivered.