"They spent together hours--spent at least a morning--the certainty of which has come back to me now, but that I didn't dream of it at the time.

That cup there has turned witness--by the most wonderful of chances.

That's why, since it has been here, I've stood it out for my husband to see; put it where it would meet him, almost immediately, if he should come into the room.

I've wanted it to meet him," she went on, "and I've wanted him to meet it, and to be myself present at the meeting.

But that hasn't taken place as yet; often as he has lately been in the way of coming to see me here--yes, in particular lately--he hasn't showed to-day." It was with her managed quietness, more and more, that she talked--an achieved coherence that helped her, evidently, to hear and to watch herself; there was support, and thereby an awful harmony, but which meant a further guidance, in the facts she could add together.
"It's quite as if he had an instinct--something that has warned him off or made him uneasy.