He lifted her face to him with whispered words of love.
He kissed her again and again.
The curtains over the library entrance moved noiselessly when they were parted.

The footsteps of Catherine Linley were inaudible as she passed through, and entered the room.
She stood still for a moment in silent horror.
Not a sound warned them when she advanced.

After hesitating for a moment, she raised her hand toward her husband, as if to tell him of her presence by a touch; drew it back, suddenly recoiling from her own first intention; and touched Sydney instead.
Then, and then only, they knew what had happened.
Face to face, those three persons--with every tie that had once united them snapped asunder in an instant--looked at each other.

The man owed a duty to the lost creature whose weakness had appealed to his mercy in vain.

The man broke the silence.
"Catherine--" With immeasurable contempt looking brightly out of her steady eyes, his wife stopped him.
"Not a word!" He refused to be silent.