Her gaze wavered till the eyelids fell, and she stood absolutely motionless, the tears still on her cheek.

The strange intoxicating force of feeling, set in motion by sorrow and pity, and the unsuspected influence of his love, was sweeping them out into deep waters.

She could hardly breathe, but as he watched her all the manhood in him rose, and from the midst of grief put forward an imperious claim to the beloved and beautiful woman before him.

He came forward a step, took the cold, unresisting hands, and, bending before her, pressed them to his lips, while her bewildered eyes looked down upon him.
'Your pity is heavenly,' he said brokenly; 'but give me more, give me more! I want your love!' She gave a little start and cry, and, drawing away her hands from him, sank back on her chair.

Her thoughts went flying back to the past--to the stretches of Surrey common, to the Nuneham woods, and all she had ever seen or imagined of his feelings towards her.