There was a strange timidity, and a fear not so strange, in Mona's eyes
as she saw her husband enter with that quick step which she had so
longingly remembered after he had fled from her; but of which she had
taken less account when he was with her at Lammis long ago-When Crozier
of Lammis was with her long ago. How tall and shapely he was! How large
he loomed with the light behind him! How shadowed his face and how
distant the look in his eyes.
Somehow the room seemed too small for him, and yet he had lived in this
very house for four years and more; he had slept in the next room all
that time; had eaten at this table and sat in this very chair--Mrs. Tynan
had told her that--for this long time, like the master of a household.
With that far-away, brooding look in his face, he seemed in one sense as
distant from her as when she was in London in those dreary, desolate
years with no knowledge of his whereabouts, a widow in every sense save
one; but in her acts--that had to be said for her--a wife always and not
a widow. She had not turned elsewhere, though there had been temptation
enough to do so.
Crozier advanced to the centre of the room, even to the table laid for
dinner, before he was conscious of some one in the room, of a figure by
the chair.
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