And now he learnt that not only had she thwarted his schemes against Monmouth, but had deprived him of the ardently sought felicity of widowing her.

He drew back his arm for the thrust; Diana huddled into her chair too horror-stricken to speak or move: Richard--immediately behind his sister--saw nothing of what was passing, and thought of nothing but his own safety.
Then Blake paused, stepped back, returned his sword to its scabbard, and bending himself--but whether to bow or not was not quite plain--he took some paces backwards, then turned and went out by the window as he had come.

But there was a sudden purposefulness in the way he did it that might have warned them this withdrawal was not quite the retreat it seemed.
They watched him with many emotions, predominant among which was relief, and when he was gone Diana rose and came to Ruth.
"Come," she said, and sought to lead her from the room.
But there was Richard now to be reckoned with, Richard from whom the palsy was of a sudden fallen, now that the cause of it had withdrawn.
He had his back to the door, and his weak mouth was pursed up into a semblance of resolution, his pale eyes looked stern, his white eyebrows bent together in a frown.
"Wait," he said.

They looked at him, and the shadow of a smile almost flitted across Diana's face.

He stepped to the door, and, opening it, held it wide.