I do not feel that my position is an honorable one.

I wish to God that I had one hope that it would ever become so." "Well, by-by, Sarah.

You'll feel better about it." Then Mr.Belcher stooped and kissed her forehead, and left her.
That little attention--that one shadow of recognition of the old relations, that faint show of feeling--went straight to her starving heart.

And then, assuming blame for what seemed, at the moment of reaction, her unreasonable selfishness, she determined to say no more, and to take uncomplainingly whatever life her husband might provide for her.
As for Mr.Belcher, he went off to his library and his cigar with a wound in his heart.

The interview with his wife, while it had excited in him a certain amount of pity for her, had deepened his pity for himself.
She had ceased to be what she had once been to him; yet his experience in the city had proved that there were still women in the world who could excite in him the old passion, and move him to the old gallantries.