The little secretary who lived with her had always a faint smile and more writing to do than usual on the evenings when he dined with them.
A great peace was over all their intercourse.

Perhaps it was the hush before the storm, the shadow of which was falling, falling, with each succeeding day across the minds of both.

Once only a sudden gust of emotion stirred the quiet air, but it dropped again immediately.

It came with the hour when Hugh confessed to her the blot upon his past.

The past was taking upon itself ever an uglier and more repulsive aspect as he saw more of Rachel.