Here he had battled in vain for Joan, practicing brutally the telling of much truth; and here with his probing finger, Adam Craig had roused his slumbering conscience into new doubt and new despair.

And here he must not forget he had told the tale of the fairy mill.

.

.
and suspicion had come darkly to his mind.

Suspicion of what?
That, as ever, he refused to face.
A chair stood by the fireplace.