He must know certainly whether a misunderstanding or an irreparable breach separated Ethne from Feversham before he took the steps he had in mind.

He must have sure knowledge, too, of Harry Feversham's fate.

Therefore he pretended to know nothing; he abandoned even his habit of attention and scrutiny, since for these there was no longer any need; he forced himself to a display of contentment; he made light of his misfortune, and professed to find in Ethne's company more than its compensation.
"You see," he said to her, "one can get used to blindness and take it as the natural thing.

But one does not get used to you, Ethne.

Each time one meets you, one discovers something new and fresh to delight one.
Besides, there is always the possibility of a cure." He had his reward, for Ethne understood that he had laid aside his suspicions, and she was able to set off his indefatigable cheerfulness against her own misery.