She had realised terribly how interesting he was after he had fled; when men came about her and talked to her in many ways, with many variations, but always with the one tune behind all they said; always making for the one goal, whatever the point from which they started or however circuitous their route.
As time went on she had hungrily longed to see her husband again, and other men had no power to interest her; but still she had not sought to find him.

At first it had been offended pride, injured self-esteem, in which the value of her own desirable self and of her very desirable fortune was not lost; then it became the pride of a wife in whom the spirit of the eternal woman was working; and she would have died rather than have sought to find him.

Five years--and not a word from him.
Five years--and not a letter from him! Her eyes involuntarily fell on the high desk with the greenbaize top.

Of all the letters he had written at that desk not one had been addressed to her.

Slowly, and with an unintentional solemnity, she went up to it and laid a hand upon it.