af of
bread, and cut a slice. He ate it, standing before the window. Then he
cleared the table and sat down to write a letter; it occupied him for
hall-an-hour. When it was finished, he put it in his pocket and began
again to pace the room.

'Are you going to, sit like that all night?' he asked suddenly.

She drew a deep sigh and rose from her seat. He saw that she no longer
thought of escaping him. She began to make preparations for tea. As
helpless in his hands as though he had purchased her in a slave market,
of what avail to sit like a perverse child? The force of her hatred
warned her to keep watch lest she brought herself to his level. Without
defence against indignities which were bitter as death, by law his
chattel, as likely as not to feel the weight of his hand if she again
roused his anger, what remained but to surrender all outward things to
unthinking habit, and to keep her soul apart, nourishing in silence
the fire of its revolt? It was the most pity-moving of all tragedies, a
noble nature overcome by sordid circumstances. She was deficient in the
strength of character which will subdue all circumstances; her strength
was of the kind that supports endurance rather than breaks a way to
freedom. Every day, every hour, is some such tragedy played through;
it is the inevitable result of our social state. Adela could have wept
tears of blood; her shame was like a branding iron upon her flesh.

She was on the second floor of a lodging-house in Pentonville, making
tea for her husband.

That husband appeared to have undergone a change since lie quitted her a
few hours ago. He was still venomous towards her, but his countenance
no longer lowered dangerously. Something distinct from his domestic
troubles seemed to be occupying him, something of a pleasant nature.
He all but smiled now and then; the glances he cast at Adela were not
wholly occupied with her. He plainly wished to speak, but could not
bring himself to do so.

He ate and drank of what she put before him. Adela took a cup of tea,
but had no appetite for food. When he had satisfied himself, she removed
the things.

Another half-hour passed. Mutimer was pretending to read. Adela at
length broke the silence.

'I think,' she said, 'I was wrong in refusing to tell you what passed
between Mr. Eldon and myself when I by chance met him. Someone seems to
have misled you. He began by hoping that we should not think ourselves
hound to leave the Manor until