But he did not come; and absence, like bereavement, has its climax, after which the thing that was begins to be as if it had not been.
He was gone; and that impetuous parting caress of his had roused in her an impulse that would never again sleep, would pace its cage restlessly, eager for the chance to burst forth.

And he had roused it when he would not be there to make its imperious clamor personal to himself.
As Estelle was at her shop all day, and not a few of the evenings, Del began to see much of Henrietta Hastings.

Grandfather Fuller was now dead and forgotten in the mausoleum into which he had put one-fifth of his fortune, to the great discontent of the heirs.

Henrietta's income had expanded from four thousand a year to twenty; and she spent her days in thinking of and talking of the careers to which she could help her husband if he would only shake off the lethargy which seized him the year after his marriage to a Fuller heiress.

But Hastings would not; he was happy in his books and in his local repute for knowing everything there was to be known.