Aliva's husband, who passed by the name of Darrell, confronted them sword in hand. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. " "Ay, but it is strange how much it resembles somebody for whom it's not intended. ” Lucy reflected. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall.
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