She stepped back to the corner of the room, as far as she could get from him.

Her heart was beating fiercely.

Somehow or other, neither of these two young men, over whose lives she had certainly brought to bear a very wonderful influence, had ever before stirred her pulses like this.

What was it, she wondered?
What was the meaning of it?
Why didn't he speak?
He did nothing but look, and there were unutterable things in his eyes.

Was he angry with her because she had married Wenham, or was he blaming her because Wenham had gone?
There was passion in his face, but such passion! Desire, perhaps, but what else?
She caught up a telegram which lay upon her writing desk, and tore it open.