Would they--would Low ever realize it, and forgive her?
Her small, dark hands went up to her eyes and she sank upon the ground.

She looked through tear-veiled lashes upon the mute and giant witnesses of her deceit and passion, and tried to draw, from their immovable calm, strength and consolation as before.

But even they seemed to stand apart, reserved and forbidding.
When Low returned she hoped to gather from his eyes and manner what had passed between him and her former lover.

But beyond a mere gentle abstraction at times he retained his usual calm.

She was at last forced to allude to it herself with simulated recklessness.
"I suppose I didn't get a very good character from my last place ?" she said, with a laugh.
"I don't understand you," he replied, in evident sincerity.
She bit her lip and was silent.