Had they forgotten, while I remembered?
It might have been only a moment that he held her.

It might have been my own agitation that conjured up such swift and whirling thoughts.

But if my mind sometimes played me false my eyes never had.

I thought I saw Diane Sampson die in Steele's arms; I could have sworn his heart was breaking; and mine was on the point of breaking, too.
How beautiful they were! How strong, how mercifully strong, yet shaken, he seemed! How tenderly, hopelessly, fatally appealing she was in that hour of her broken life! If I had been Steele I would have forsworn my duty, honor, name, service for her sake.

Had I mind enough to divine his torture, his temptation, his narrow escape?
I seemed to feel them, at any rate, and while I saw him with a beautiful light on his face, I saw him also ghastly, ashen, with hands that shook as they groped around her, loosing her, only to draw her convulsively back again.