Once in a while his eyes would linger on the
face of Josephine. Little speech of any kind passed between them.
There were no callers at Tallwoods, no news came, and apparently
none went out from that place. It might have been a fortress, an
island, a hospital, a prison, all in one.
At length Dunwody was able safely to leave his room and to take up
a resting place occasionally in the large library across the hall.
Here one day by accident she met him. He did not at first note her
coming, and she had opportunity now carefully to regard him, as he
stood moodily looking out over the lawn. Always a tall man, and
large, his figure had fined down in the confinement of the last few
weeks. It seemed to her that she saw the tinge of gray crawling a
little higher on his temples. His face was not yet thin, yet in
some way the lines of the mouth and jaw seemed stronger, more
deeply out. It was a face not sullen, yet absorbed, and above all
full, now, of a settled melancholy.
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