She had filled it herself in the evening against her husband's return from an absence of mysterious length.

Now she understood that mystery, and her face darkened as she recalled the inconceivable insult which his explanation had embraced.

No, indeed; not another minute that she could help! And he would sleep there till all hours of the morning; he had done it before; the longer the better, this time.
She had recoiled into the narrow hall, driven by an uncontrollable revulsion; and there she stood, pale and quivering with a disgust that only deepened as she looked her last upon the shaded face and the inanimate frame in the chair.

Rachel could not account for the intensity of her feeling; it bordered upon nausea, and for a time prevented her from retracing the single step which at length enabled her to shut both doors as quietly as she had opened them, after switching off the light from force of habit.

There was another light still glowing in the hall, and, again from habit, Rachel put it out also before setting foot upon the stairs.