Such as he was, he was himself, no simulator.

She longed for Mr.Redworth's report of him.
Her compassion for Redworth's feelings when beholding the woman he loved another man's wife, did not soften the urgency of her injunction that he should go speedily, and see as much of them as he could.

'Because,' she gave her reason, 'I wish Diana to know she has not lost a single friend through her marriage, and is only one the richer.' Redworth buckled himself to the task.

He belonged to the class of his countrymen who have a dungeon-vault for feelings that should not be suffered to cry abroad, and into this oubliette he cast them, letting them feed as they might, or perish.

It was his heart down below, and in no voluntary musings did he listen to it, to sustain the thing.