He sat staring straight ahead of him, a look of weariness and
self-disgust on his face: it was almost as if he had been gazing at a
distorted reflection of his own features. For a moment Charity looked at
him with a kind of terror, as if he had been a stranger under familiar
lineaments; then she glanced past him and saw on the floor an open
portmanteau half full of clothes. She understood that he was preparing
to leave, and that he had probably decided to go without seeing her. She
saw that the decision, from whatever cause it was taken, had disturbed
him deeply; and she immediately concluded that his change of plan was
due to some surreptitious interference of Mr. Royall's. All her old
resentments and rebellions flamed up, confusedly mingled with the
yearning roused by Harney's nearness. Only a few hours earlier she
had felt secure in his comprehending pity; now she was flung back on
herself, doubly alone after that moment of communion.
Harney was still unaware of her presence. He sat without moving, moodily
staring before him at the same spot in the wall-paper.
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