Ephraim, bareheaded in the sunshine, was standing on the path shading his eyes to scan the road.

Susannah ran out, not to him (her shame and grief for him were too deep for any word), but with intent to run after the wounded man and nurse his wound.
"It can be but a slight flesh wound," said Ephraim mechanically.
She looked first where he was gazing, and saw that some distance down the road Halsey was stepping into a chaise.

Another man took the seat beside him and they drove away.
Then she looked at Ephraim.

He did not appear as though he felt his guilt; he had the mien rather of one who was striving bravely to endure hardship.

Then indeed she felt that the gulf of thought must yawn wide between them; she could even yet have pitied Ephraim's contrition, but he was not contrite.