She had gone through the twenty-seven years of her life believing herself to be a religious and virtuous person.

She was so accustomed to the idea that it had become a habit, and now the whole of her self-respect was in one wrench torn from her.
The events of the last year had not worn it down to its last shred, had not even worn the nap off.

It was dragged from her intact, and the shock left her faint and shuddering.
The thought that her husband knew, and had thought fit to conceal his knowledge, had never entered her mind, any more than the probability that she had been seen by some of the servants kneeling listening at a keyhole.

The mistake which all unobservant people make is to assume that others are as unobservant as themselves.
By what frightful accident, she asked herself, had this catastrophe come about?
She thought of all the obvious incidents which would have revealed the secret to herself--the dropped letter, the altered countenance, the badly arranged lie.No.She was convinced her secret had been guarded with minute, with scrupulous care.

The only thing she had forgotten in her calculations was her husband's character, if, indeed, she could be said to have forgotten that which she had never known.
Lord Newhaven was in his wife's eyes a very quiet man of few words.