Only once.

Now, while he sprawled in the long chair and drank and talked, she would stand at the further end of the table, her hands resting on the edge, her frightened eyes watching his lips, without a sound, without a stir, hardly breathing, till he dismissed her with a contemptuous: "Go to bed, dummy." She would draw a long breath then and trail out of the room, relieved but unmoved.
Nothing could startle her, make her scold or make her cry.

She did not complain, she did not rebel.

That first difference of theirs was decisive.

Too decisive, thought Willems, discontentedly.