He could not break away from her fond embrace; but in a few moments she let him go, bidding him get some rest before the night was passed.
Once more he stood in the dimly-lighted passage, listening at his wife's door, with his fingers involuntarily clasping the handle.

But he dared not go in.

If he looked upon Felicita again he could not leave her, even to escape from ruin and disgrace.

An agony of love and of terror took possession of him.

Never to see her again was horrible; but to see her shrink from him as a base and dishonest man, his name an infamy to her, would be worse than death.