He was dressed in common ill-fitting clothes; he lay as only the very weak lie, head and limbs visibly resting on the support beneath them.
She crossed her arms and stood there, fierce and defiant.

She was conscious of the dignity of her pose, of her improved appearance and of her fine clothes; the consciousness formed part of her defiance.

But he did not even see her mood, just as, manlike, he did not see her dress.
All that he did see was that here, in actual life before him, was the girl he had lost.

In his weakness he bestirred himself with a cry of fond wondering joy--"Sissy!" "Yes, Mr.Bates, I'm here." Some power came to him, for he sat erect, awed and reverent before this sudden delight that his eyes were drinking in.

"Are you safe, Sissy ?" he whispered.
"Yes," she replied, scornfully, "I've been quite safe ever since I got away from you, Mr.Bates.