She turned about the room; she looked out a moment into the August night; she stopped, here and there, before the flowers in bowls and vases.

Yes, it was distinctly as if she had proved what was needing proof, as if the issue of her operation had been, almost unexpectedly, a success.

Old arithmetic had perhaps been fallacious, but the new settled the question.

Her husband, oddly, however, kept his place without apparently measuring these results.
As he had been amused at her intensity, so he was not uplifted by her relief; his interest might in fact have been more enlisted than he allowed.

"Do you mean," he presently asked, "that he had already forgot about Charlotte ?" She faced round as if he had touched a spring.