Especially when it exposes you to the devoted ministrations of a husband you have made up your mind to disapprove of, and compels you to a baffling view of him.
Anne owned herself baffled.
Her attack had chastened her.

She had been touched by Walter's kindness, by the evidence (if she had needed it) that she was as dear to him in her ignominious agony as she had been in the beauty of her triumphal health.
As he moved about her, he became to her insistent outward sense the man she had loved because of his goodness.

It was so that she had first seen his strong masculine figure moving about Edith on her couch, handling her with the supreme gentleness of strength.

She had not been two days in the house in Prior Street before her memories assailed her.

Her new and detestable view of Walter contended with her old beloved vision of him.
The two were equally real, equally vivid, and she could not reconcile them.