His mind returned to that main theme painfully.

He envisaged it in all its bearings, not sparing himself.

Suffered, and looked on at his own suffering with a stoicism somewhat sardonic.
Meanwhile Damaris slept.

His nearness had not disturbed her, indeed he might rather suppose its effect beneficent.

For her breathing grew even, just sweetly and restfully audible in the intervals of other sounds reaching him from out of doors.
The wind, drawing out of the sunset, freshened during the night.