She wanted to ask him how he could have been a traitor, and she did not dare.

Carrington a traitor! Carrington killing her friends! The idea was too large to grasp.

She fell back on the simpler task of wondering how he had looked in his rebel uniform.
They rode slowly round to the door of the house and dismounted, after he had with some difficulty found a man to hold their horses.

From the heavy brick porch they looked across the superb river to the raw and incoherent ugliness of the city, idealised into dreamy beauty by the atmosphere, and the soft background of purple hills behind.

Opposite them, with its crude "thus saith the law" stamped on white dome and fortress-like walls, rose the Capitol.
Carrington stood with her a short time while they looked at the view; then said he would rather not go into the house himself, and sat down on the steps while she strolled alone through the rooms.