She saw an India shawl, and lengths of silk and satin and velvet, and turned away from it all to the obstinate contemplation and endurance of her own misery.
At last Lot led the way back to the sitting-room.

He set the candle on the shelf, and gave a strange, beseeching glance around the room at his books.

It was as if he besought, with the irrationality of grief, those only friends he fairly knew for help and sympathy.
Then he turned to Madelon and laid a hand on each of her shoulders, and looked at her.

"No, there is no need now," he said, when she would have shrunk away from him; and something in his voice hushed her, and she stood still.
"Madelon," said Lot Gordon, "tell me true, as before God.

You are a woman, and always, I have heard, a woman takes comfort and pleasure in life with such gear as I have shown you, alone, even if she has little else.