The darkness daunted him; he saw in it the shadow of his own sense of guilt.

The gray glimmering of dawn, the songs of birds when the pure light softly climbed the sky, roused and relieved him.

With the first radiant rising of the sun he returned to the summer-house.
"Do I disturb you ?" he asked, waiting at the door.
"No." "Will you come out and speak to me ?" She appeared at the door, waiting to hear what he had to say to her.
"I must ask you to submit to a sacrifice of your own feelings," he began.

"When I kept away from you in the drawing room, last night--when my strange conduct made you fear that you had offended me--I was trying to remember what I owed to my good wife.

I have been thinking of her again.