But she felt that he intended to get rid of her, and he knew that it was useless to try to hide that design from her.

She turned away and sat down on a pile of bricks, only writhing angrily when he pressed her for a word.
As they neared the end of her voyage, and her intense protest against desertion remained, as she thought, only half expressed, her sense of injury grew almost unbearable.
They landed on a wharf, and went through an unswept, deeply-rutted lane up to the main street of Lyvern.

Here he became Smilash again, walking deferentially a little before her, as if she had hired him to point out the way.

She then saw that her last opportunity of appealing to him had gone by, and she nearly burst into tears at the thought.

It occurred to her that she might prevail upon him by making a scene in public.