He saw that she looked at him, and he nodded, suddenly assuming the expression of docility she had noticed for the first time in the afternoon.
Before they left the table they were all three in that excruciating state of rawness of the nerves, in which a man has the sensation that his brain is a violent explosive which a single jarring sound or word must ignite and blow to atoms, like a bomb-shell.
And all the while Veronica sat peacefully in her room, before her fire, wrapped in a loose soft dressing-gown, her little feet upon the fender before her and a book in her hand.

A lamp in an upright sliding stand was on one side of her, and on the other stood a small table.

From time to time her maid brought her something from dinner, of which she ate a mouthful or two between two paragraphs of her novel.
It was a great pleasure to her to dine in this way, alone, but it was one she rarely had an opportunity of indulging.

Even when her aunt and uncle dined out she generally had her dinner in the dining-room with Bosio, who scarcely ever went into society at all.

On such occasions they generally sat together half an hour after the meal was over, before separating, and it was then that they really enjoyed each other's conversation.