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Clare
arose
in
the
light
of
a
dawn
that
was
ashy
and
furtive
,
as
though
associated
with
crime
.
The
fireplace
confronted
him
with
its
extinct
embers
;
the
spread
supper
-
table
,
whereon
stood
the
two
full
glasses
of
untasted
wine
,
now
flat
and
filmy
;
her
vacated
seat
and
his
own
;
the
other
articles
of
furniture
,
with
their
eternal
look
of
not
being
able
to
help
it
,
their
intolerable
inquiry
what
was
to
be
done
?
From
above
there
was
no
sound
;
but
in
a
few
minutes
there
came
a
knock
at
the
door
.
He
remembered
that
it
would
be
the
neighbouring
cottager
’
s
wife
,
who
was
to
minister
to
their
wants
while
they
remained
here
.
The
presence
of
a
third
person
in
the
house
would
be
extremely
awkward
just
now
,
and
,
being
already
dressed
,
he
opened
the
window
and
informed
her
that
they
could
manage
to
shift
for
themselves
that
morning
.
She
had
a
milk
-
can
in
her
hand
,
which
he
told
her
to
leave
at
the
door
.
When
the
dame
had
gone
away
he
searched
in
the
back
quarters
of
the
house
for
fuel
,
and
speedily
lit
a
fire
.
There
was
plenty
of
eggs
,
butter
,
bread
,
and
so
on
in
the
larder
,
and
Clare
soon
had
breakfast
laid
,
his
experiences
at
the
dairy
having
rendered
him
facile
in
domestic
preparations
.
The
smoke
of
the
kindled
wood
rose
from
the
chimney
without
like
a
lotus
-
headed
column
;
local
people
who
were
passing
by
saw
it
,
and
thought
of
the
newly
-
married
couple
,
and
envied
their
happiness
.
Angel
cast
a
final
glance
round
,
and
then
going
to
the
foot
of
the
stairs
,
called
in
a
conventional
voice
—
“
Breakfast
is
ready
!
”
He
opened
the
front
door
,
and
took
a
few
steps
in
the
morning
air
.
When
,
after
a
short
space
,
he
came
back
she
was
already
in
the
sitting
-
room
mechanically
readjusting
the
breakfast
things
.
As
she
was
fully
attired
,
and
the
interval
since
his
calling
her
had
been
but
two
or
three
minutes
,
she
must
have
been
dressed
or
nearly
so
before
he
went
to
summon
her
.
Her
hair
was
twisted
up
in
a
large
round
mass
at
the
back
of
her
head
,
and
she
had
put
on
one
of
the
new
frocks
—
a
pale
blue
woollen
garment
with
neck
-
frillings
of
white
.
Her
hands
and
face
appeared
to
be
cold
,
and
she
had
possibly
been
sitting
dressed
in
the
bedroom
a
long
time
without
any
fire
.
The
marked
civility
of
Clare
’
s
tone
in
calling
her
seemed
to
have
inspired
her
,
for
the
moment
,
with
a
new
glimmer
of
hope
.
But
it
soon
died
when
she
looked
at
him
.
The
pair
were
,
in
truth
,
but
the
ashes
of
their
former
fires
.
To
the
hot
sorrow
of
the
previous
night
had
succeeded
heaviness
;
it
seemed
as
if
nothing
could
kindle
either
of
them
to
fervour
of
sensation
any
more
.
He
spoke
gently
to
her
,
and
she
replied
with
a
like
undemonstrativeness
.
At
last
she
came
up
to
him
,
looking
in
his
sharply
-
defined
face
as
one
who
had
no
consciousness
that
her
own
formed
a
visible
object
also
.
“
Angel
!
”
she
said
,
and
paused
,
touching
him
with
her
fingers
lightly
as
a
breeze
,
as
though
she
could
hardly
believe
to
be
there
in
the
flesh
the
man
who
was
once
her
lover
.
Her
eyes
were
bright
,
her
pale
cheek
still
showed
its
wonted
roundness
,
though
half
-
dried
tears
had
left
glistening
traces
thereon
;
and
the
usually
ripe
red
mouth
was
almost
as
pale
as
her
cheek
.
Throbbingly
alive
as
she
was
still
,
under
the
stress
of
her
mental
grief
the
life
beat
so
brokenly
,
that
a
little
further
pull
upon
it
would
cause
real
illness
,
dull
her
characteristic
eyes
,
and
make
her
mouth
thin
.
