He had argued for himself.

It was his own passionate desire to free himself from associations that were little short of loathsome which had prompted this visit.

And then what he had dreaded most of all happened.

As they sat facing one another in the silent, half-darkened room, Mannering trying to bring himself into accord with half-admitted but repugnant convictions, she watching him hopelessly, the tinkle of a hansom bell sounded outside.

The sudden stopping of a horse, the rattle of a latchkey, and she was in the room.
Mannering rose to his feet with a little exclamation.
The woman stood and looked in upon them.