He found opportunities of secretly examining the blotter on her writing-desk, and it convinced him that she had written to Mrs.Westlake.It maddened him that he had not the courage to take a single open step, to forbid, for instance, all future correspondence with London.

To do so would be to declare his suspicions.
He wished to declare them; it would have gratified him intensely to vomit impeachments, to terrify her with coarseness and violence; but, on the other hand, by keeping quiet he might surprise positive evidence, and if only he did! She was ill; he had a distinct pleasure in observing it.

She longed for quiet and retirement; he neglected his business to force his company upon her, to laugh and talk loudly.

She with difficulty read a page; he made her read aloud to him by the hour, or write translations for him from French and German.

The pale anguish of her face was his joy; it fascinated him, fired his senses, made him a demon of vicious cruelty.
Yet he durst not as much as touch her hand when she sat before him.