He went and walked about in the library, but could not dispel his suffering.

Vain to keep repeating that Monica was incapable of baseness.

Of that he was persuaded, but none the less a hideous image returned upon his mental vision--a horror--a pollution of thought.
One thing he could do to restore his sanity.

He would walk over to Lavender Hill, and accompany his wife on her return home.

Indeed, the mere difficulty of getting through the afternoon advised this project.
He could not employ himself, and knew that his imagination, once inflamed, would leave him not a moment's rest.