It uncovered the end
of the first row and in one of the seats Charity saw Harney, and in the
next a lady whose face was turned toward him, and almost hidden by the
brim of her drooping hat. Charity did not need to see the face. She knew
at a glance the slim figure, the fair hair heaped up under the hat-brim,
the long pale wrinkled gloves with bracelets slipping over them. At the
fall of the branch Miss Balch turned her head toward the stage, and in
her pretty thin-lipped smile there lingered the reflection of something
her neighbour had been whispering to her....
Someone came forward to replace the fallen branch, and Miss Balch and
Harney were once more hidden. But to Charity the vision of their two
faces had blotted out everything. In a flash they had shown her the
bare reality of her situation. Behind the frail screen of her lover's
caresses was the whole inscrutable mystery of his life: his relations
with other people--with other women--his opinions, his prejudices, his
principles, the net of influences and interests and ambitions in which
every man's life is entangled.
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