All she demanded child-like, in her extremity,
had been the comfort and security of human contact. And this he gave her
simply, ungrudgingly, with a high purity of understanding, guiltless of
any shadow of embarrassment or any after-thought. Their lighter, somewhat
enigmatic relation of the earlier evening was extinguished, swamped by
the catastrophe of Charles Verity's illness. Exactly in how far she
gauged the gravity of that illness and its only too likely result, or
merely wept, unnerved by the distressing outward aspect of it, Carteret
could not determine. But he divined, and rightly, that she was in process
of ranging herself, at least subconsciously, with a new and terrible
experience which, could she learn the lesson of it aright would temper
her nature to worthy issues.
Hence, with a peculiar and tender interest, he watched her when, coming
down in the morning, he found her already in the dining-room, the
pleasant amenities of a well-ordered, hospitable house and household
abundantly evident.
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