When Emmy asked him whether he did not long for Wiggleswick and the studious calm of Nunsmere, he said, "No." And he spoke truly; for wherein lay the advantage of one spot on the earth's surface over another, if Zora were not the light thereof?
But he kept his reason in his heart.

They rarely spoke of Zora.
Of the things that concerned Emmy herself so deeply, they never spoke at all.

Of her hopes and fears for the future he knew nothing.

For all that was said between them, Mordaunt Prince might have been the figure of a dream that had vanished into the impenetrable mists of dreamland.

To the girl he was a ghastly memory which she strove to hide in the depths of her soul.