He was provoked into various harsh speeches, and Phoebe felt that despair which weak and loving women know, when parting is near, and they foresee the hour beyond parting--when each unkind word and look, too well remembered, will gnaw and creep about the heart.
But she could not restrain herself.

Nervous tension, doubt of her husband, and condemnation of herself drove her on.

The very last night there was a quarrel--about the child--whom Fenwick had punished for some small offence.

Phoebe hotly defended her--first with tears, then with passion.

For the first time these two people found themselves looking into each other's eyes with rage, almost with hate.