Something in her clear eyes told him, as they told many others, that small lies and petty deceits might be laid aside with impunity in dealing with her.
He felt no surprise at seeing her, no return of the sudden violent emotion of the night before.

He had never spoken to her till this moment, but yet he felt that her eyes were old friends, tried to the uttermost and found faithful in some forgotten past.

Rachel's eyes had a certain calm fixity in them that comes not of natural temperament, but of past conflict, long waged, and barely but irrevocably won.

A faint ray of comfort stole across the desolation of his mind as he looked at her.

He did not notice whether she was handsome or ugly, any more than we do when we look at the dear familiar faces which were with us in their childhood and ours, which have grown up beside us under the same roof, which have rejoiced with us and wept with us, and without which heaven itself could never be a home.
In a few minutes he was taking her in to dinner.