Aldous still hung over her chair.

Neither interrupted her.

Once the eyes of the two men met over her head--a distressed, significant look.

Aldous heard all she said, but what absorbed him mainly was the wild desire to kiss the dark hair, so close below him, alternating with the miserable certainty that for him at that moment to touch, to soothe her, was to be repulsed.
When her voice broke--when she had said all she could think of--she remained looking imploringly at Lord Maxwell.
He was silent a little; then he stooped forward and took her hand.
"You have spoken," he said with great feeling, "most nobly--most well--like a good woman, with a true compassionate heart.

But all these things you have said are not new to me, my dear child.