He was unprepared for anything of the kind; his emotions resented it.

Though consciously harbouring no single unworthy desire, he could not endure to find Adela zealous on her husband's behalf.
Had he misled himself?
Was the grief that he had witnessed really that of a wife for her husband's misfortune?
For whatever reason she had married Mutimer--and that _could_ not be love--married life might have engendered affection.

He knew Adela to be deeply conscientious; how far was it in a woman's power to subdue herself to love at the bidding of duty?
He allowed several moments to pass before replying to her.

Then he said, courteously but coldly: 'I am very sorry that you have asked the one thing I cannot do.' Adela's heart sank.

In putting a distance between him and herself she had obeyed an instinct of self-preservation; now that it was effected, the change in his voice was almost more than she could bear.
'Why do you refuse ?' she asked, trying, though in vain, to look up at him.
'Because it is impossible for me to pretend sympathy with Mr.Mutimer's views.